Magical Me by Gilderoy Lockhart
by Marsredrust
Summary: The absolutely true story of how I, Gilderoy Lockhart (Order of Merlin 3rd Class, honorary member of the Dark Force Defense League, and undefeated record holder of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile award), went from a simple Hogwarts' schoolboy to be one of the greatest wizards of all time.
1. Author's Preface

Author's Preface

 _Oh, hello!_

By Merlin's beard, I was so busy writing another bestseller, I swear I almost didn't see you there, drifting along in the dreary shadows of life, looking for the slightest glimmer of the spotlight. But alas, not all of us have what it takes to make the world a brighter place, for it requires a special something if you will, that je ne sais quoi! However, don't despair dear reader, for this is your chance to finally live vicariously through one of the world's most accomplished wizards. And not just any old haggard Auror, but a wizard of the Order of Merlin 3rd Class, an honorary member of the Dark Force Defense League, and the undefeated record holder of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile award!

You might ask yourself, "who might this accomplished and handsome wizard be?

Why... it's none other than me- _Gilderoy Lockhart!_

And I hereby modestly submit my humble self for your illumination, contemplation, and companionship in a way I would never choose to be bothered with in real life. Sounds exciting, doesn't it? But you might be wondering, "why would Gilderoy Lockhart take time out of his busy and important schedule to submit his experiences for me to mull over with my glazed, droopy, and lack-luster eyeballs?"

Because, you silly grumpkin, the thing to keep in mind, is- I do this, not for fame, or fortune, or for an exclusive private dining room at the Leaky Caldron, no- I do it for you! Because my only hope in life is that my world famous tales, thrilling adventures, and breath-taking daring-do, help lift you out of your boring, stifling, muggle-like life and inspires you to dream big, go out into the world, and make a difference... by purchasing all of my best-selling novels and affordable guides to house-hold pests. And buy them not only for yourself, as that would be rather selfish, but also buy them for your friends and your family, since they make great gifts for birthdays, holidays, and even graduations. Also weddings. Oh, and don't forget anniversaries, not to mention funerals (so I won't, as that would be rude, and more importantly, it would be in poor taste, and I don't want anyone to say Gilderoy Lockhart has poor taste, because if you one considers it, that would actually be terribly, terribly rude. Much ruder than giving one of my books as a gift at a funeral).

P.S.

One teensy, tiny last thing. In order to protect the innocent, I may have changed the names of just a few characters, in order to guard their identity, of course, and in no way to benefit from their miserable experiences.

P.P.S.

Also, just in case anyone has the audacity to question whether the following stories are anything other that the utmost truth, I implore you to think of all the damage you would be inflicting on all the poor souls out there that would be caught up in your misguided attempt to smear my good name. I mean, talk about an Unforgivable Curse! Please, let's just take a moment to think of all the sad rheumy-eyed children with runny noses and second-hand wands who need a hero to look up to, and how devastated they would be. They might give up on any hope of living a life of importance, and if you think about it, they could become Death-Eaters- or worse! You wouldn't want that now, would you? So, banish those fears and doubts that feed upon your soul like a hungry Dementor with my illuminating Patronus-like wit and charm, and may you forget all about "The Boy Who Lived" and begin your travels along with "The Man Who Has Lived it All"!

P.P.P.S.

To re-iterate, there's absolutely no need to investigate what is reported in the following tales and in fact, a much better use of your time would probably be to just go ahead and start your own Gilderoy Lockhart Fan Club! That's right, think about it... perhaps you could even be president of your own club, and win the adoration of all your friends and neighbors! Why, doesn't that make you feel better already? I know I do! Furthermore, just think of the past as being something really complicated that was broken a long time ago - Really, really broken, like a million little pieces broken, and it can't be put back together. So...without further ado, I invite you to light up the old fireplace, sit back in your favorite comfy chair, grab a steaming mug of Butter-Beer, and let my stories whisk you away like so much Floo Powder, and know in your heart of hearts that everything in this book _actually_ happened, and every word is _completely_ true, and that none of it is _made-up_ in the slightest.

Not even a little bit.

Sincerely yours,

Gilderoy Lockhart


	2. Ch 1- The Once and Future Me

Chapter 1

The Once and Future Me

Oh, where to begin, where to begin?

Ah, yes! On what seemed to be just your typical rainy grey day in Bristol, England on January 26, 1964, while the rest of the Wizarding World was caught up in a wave of hysteria over old moldy Voldy's rise to power, a potentially much bigger phenomenon was busy being born, in a literal labor of love that my mother describes as, and I quote, "not _horrendously_ excruciating."

Indeed, it was your esteemed narrator himself- Gilderoy Lockhart. I was the third child of the greatest witch mother and Muggle father a boy could ever want, but you see the thing was, when I was born my dear magical mother had just about given up all hope on having any magical children after my two much older sisters, who are just the about the loveliest Squibs you could ever meet (not that there's anything wrong with that), failed to materialize any magic. My mother then kept her magical abilities to herself for many years, as she didn't want to upset the rest of the family, or put them in danger. This strained my parents' relationship nearly to the breaking point; Beetle the Bard never said mixed relationships were easy, that's for sure.

So, she kept her magic hidden, tucked away as it were. She wrapped up her wand, gave away her toad, and put her broom in the closet. And when I was born, she had no idea if I was going to turn out to be magical, but still, she loved me all the same.

Since she wasn't sure if I was going to manifest growing up, I didn't even know of her secret power because she never mentioned or demonstrated it. But then guess who changed all of that? No... not Merlin, or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named-For-Copyright-Purposes, or the even the great Gandalf-The-Grey.

That's right, it was little old magical me who changed all of that!

Because, strangely enough, when I was seven years old I became fascinated with the idea of magic, not real _magic_ , mind you, as practiced by witches and wizards, but the kind practiced by Muggle magicians- "magic tricks" on stage.

Yes, I know it's difficult to believe, but I did indeed love all the classic magicians like Harry Houdini and Harry Blackstone, and followed the comic strips featuring my favorite fictional character, the dapper and metropolitan Mandrake the Magician, who would fight crime by "gesturing hypnotically" to make people see what he wanted them to believe. He also lived in a really fabulous flat, and had a glamorous getaway car with all sorts of magical gadgets. All my family had was an old, beat-up, robin's egg blue Ford Anglia, so you could see how exciting being a world-famous magician would be to a little three and half-stone, shaggy-haired whippersnapper such as myself.

As I got a little older, I began to practice these magic tricks for my friends and family. At first, I was skeptical of my intentions- Did I really just want to be the center of attention? Could there be a dark side to magic? I pondered these terrible thoughts for a brief moment at the end of my first little performance, but then the crowd erupted in delight. They were cheering and applauding, and I thought to myself, "Isn't making people happy the real magic here?"

Good question... could there be anything more magical than that?

Little did I know, there actually was... like real magic that was practiced by children at places like Hogwarts, and that my mother was secretly a real live witch. In any case, I practiced my magical illusions, and they became quite good, impressing friends and neighbors, and after booking shows at birthday parties, and making a little coin of the realm, I began to have dreams of becoming the world's most famous magician where I would travel around the globe with a beautiful assistant and wow stadiums of crowds. And in doing so, I would make the world a better place, a brighter place, where any dream is possible, especially my dream... of making the world a better place... for me.

But then one day when I was eight years old, at lil' Sasha Baron Chabon's Bar mitzvah, that all changed. As usual, I was thrilling the crowd with my illusions and was ending with my show-stopping trick of pulling my pet bunny, Alice, out of my hat and placing her on my table where I would then make the rabbit "disappear" in a puff of smoke, while she secretly escaped through a trap door. But when I put the hat back on my head, I felt a- _plop, plop, plop!_ I quickly pulled it off, and much to my confusion, another differentbunny jumped off my head. Looking into my hat, another rabbit then popped out, then another, and another.

"Amazing," I exclaimed, "it's just like magic!"

The rabbits hopped out into the crowd, and I tried to chase them down and put them back. The audience went wild, and I tried my best to make it look like it was all part of the show. But I knew it couldn't be possible, could it? For I had hidden only a single bunny in the secret compartment of my hat, but something else had happened... something magical.

But my mother still withheld her secret from me since she was afraid it had been a merely a fluke (the common household fluke, of course, being a type of legendary boggart that likes to play cruel tricks on the Squib children of magical parents). However, after other similar magical incidents, she finally sat me down and told me what had really happened and why. She confessed she was a witch- a real live witch just like Muggles watch on the telly in shows like _Sabrina The Teenage Witch_ , or _Bewitched_ , or Jeannie from _I Dream of Jeannie_ , who I guess was technically a Genie, but seemed pretty much like all the others witches on TV and in the movies, seeing as how she never ran out of wishes, or spells, or whatever.

I couldn't believe it!

She explained everything the best she could, and told me all about the real history of witches, wizards, goblins, and fairies. She also informed me of the recent rise of You-Know-Who-So-I-Won't-Mention-Him-By-Name, and how terrible Death Eaters were, and how they hated people like us, whom they called _Mudbloods_. I tried to take it all in, and although my mind was reeling, I could feel deep down what she was saying was true.

"So, magic is...real?" I asked, looking up into her big blue eyes.

"Yes," she said with the world's second greatest smile. "But in order to stay hidden and safe, you can't perform magic tricks for people anymore. It's too risky and dangerous."

"Can't I use magic... to be a magician?" I asked, suddenly unsure of all this hocus pocus business, and I wondered if she was playing some sort of trick on me herself.

"No... I'm sorry." My mother shook her head and gently placed her hand on my shoulder. "Death-Eaters look down on magicians as the lowest form of entertainment. Even worse than...mimes."

I was devastated.

What kind of monster was He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Gamed? From that day on, I abhorred the idea of "Pureblood", and being a dirty "Mudblood" myself, I hoped that You-Know-Hoodoo would one day be defeated, and that someday magical and non-magical people could eventually live in harmony. A rather beautiful and deep thought, isn't it? I know, I know... you underestimate me. It's all right, I underestimate myself all the time and then surprise! I once again exceed myself.

Although my mother tried cheering me up by informing me that next year I would be going to the pre-eminent school for wizards and witches- the venerable and hallowed Hogwarts, it was little consolation.

My dreams of being a magician were over, and I wondered to myself, "who are you- Gilderoy, old boy?"

I honestly didn't know who I really was... but I was determined to find out.


	3. Ch 2-Hoary Haughty Halls of Hogwarts

Chapter 2

The Hoary and Haughty Halls of Hogwarts

After I gave away my magic box of tricks and illusions, I was rather distraught. But then I remembered, just like the song says, to always look on the bright side of life, and all that jazz, and believe it or not, as I began practicing spells with my mother, I slowly cheered up. And despite the unfortunate beginning, those summer months she and I spent together were the best- we practiced every day, and she said I was the best wizard she had ever seen... and mothers do not lie!

Here I was, a scrawny whelp not nine-years old, and I was already a prodigy the likes of which she had never laid eyes upon. So, of course, my mother then sent many letters to Hogwarts informing them of my exceptional abilities, and although we didn't receive a reply (you know how reliable owl service can be), I'm sure word spread around the school like dragonfire.

And wouldn't you just know it, by summer's end I actually started to look forward to my impeding magical studies, and by the time my mother took me to Diagon Alley to pick out my owl and wand, I was hopping around like a baby Hungarian Horntail. When we visited Ollivander's Ye Olde Wand Shoppe, I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and got all goosepimple-ly as I walked into the dark and dusty shop.

Inside, after my eyes adjusted, I could see a boy with bright red hair gleefully whipping his wand around sending bubbles everywhere. His mother looked happy, but slightly nervous, as he kept sending out more bubbles, and now not just spherical ones, but bubbles in the shapes of cubes, pyramids, cones, and cylinders. The bubbles began to fill the whole shop, and she kept telling him to stop, but he just ran around laughing and continued making more complex forms.

Soon the entire shop was filled to the brim with bubbles of all shapes and sizes, and finally his mother snatched the wand away, and exclaimed, "I SAID THAT'S ENOUGH BUBBLES, ARTHUR!"

He just smiled and nodded, "yes, Mum!" and she dragged him out by his red throbbing ear. As the bubbles slowly dissolved, my mother and I then stepped forward, and I informed Ollivander that I was ready to pick out my wand. But he smiled oddly, and leaned over and said, "No, no, no, my dear boy, you see... the wand chooses the owner."

I laughed and looked at my mother who just nodded politely, and I asked, "How could that be?"

"Easy, it's..." He paused, leaned in close, and whispered, "... _magic!_ "

My mother and I both smiled awkwardly, and I wondered if ol' Ollivander had maybe sniffed a little too much wand wood glue in his day. After trying out few different wands, I picked out the one that I liked the best (cherry, dragon heartstring, nine inches, slightly bendy) and not the other way around. I poked fun at the old man's suggestion that we don't always choose our fate.

He looked off into the distance, "We shall see, young Lockhart, we shall see..."

Perhaps the old man had a small point, because while I thought I had a pretty good idea of what to expect the following day, it turned out much different. You see, after my dear sweet mother wished me the best of luck, kissed me goodbye, and dropped me off at Platform 9 and ¾'s to board the train to Hogwarts, all of the other students acted like they didn't care or, as preposterous as it sounds, even know who I was.

Can you believe that?

I marched right up to two older boys- one was tall in a long black overcoat, with brooding eyes, a sharp nose, and a mop of jet-black hair. Next to him stood a rather well-dressed boy who had the bluest eyes, and longest, blondest hair I had ever seen.

Doing my best to strike up a conversation, I politely asked, "Cheerio, old boys! Might this be platform 9 and ¾?"

The blond boy just snickered, and squinted his eyes. "Hmmpf..."

The black-haired boy waited, almost motionlessly, and finally just rolled his eyes said, "Ob...visously."

They both just stared at me in silence, I believe doing their best to summon the Evil Eye, and seeing as how I had my turquoise Lotus-Hand Charm to warn off Evil Eye packed away in my luggage, I said, "well, I say... good day, kind sirs!" as politely as I could, and walked away. Ooh, I bet that really got their goat!

But as I looked around, I realized what the problem was; the two boys, and the rest of them, must have been intimidated, and perhaps a little bit jealous of me. For they must have heard about my wondrous abilities, and sadly enough were envious of my preternatural gift. But don't worry, I forgave all of them right then and there- I'm no fudge to hold a grudge that's for sure!

Anyways, along with the rest of the students, I boarded the train and eventually arrived at Hogwarts. While not quite living up to my expectations, the grounds and school was not too shabby, and all the students lined up in the great hall to eat a sumptuous feast while the faculty introduced themselves. Afterwards, the head master Albus Dumbledore called all the new students up for the tradition of the Sorting Hat. I had been already informed by my mother of the various houses of Hogwarts- Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin, and watched other students get sorted with mounting anticipation. After what seemed like forever, Dumbledore finally read out my name, "Gilderoy Lockhart!"

I stepped up as the crowd was doing their best to pretend they weren't interested, and I put on the Sorting Hat. It felt strange on my scalp, like a scratchy and smelly massage. The Sorting Hat mumbled, "oh, uh, huh... very difficult... yes. Let's see, let's see. Yes, you would do great in... Slytherin."

The students were doing their best to hide the fact that they were on the edge of their seats, or benches, or pews, or-you get the idea. I thought to myself, "please not Hufflepuff, please not Hufflepuff.-"

Finally, the Sorting Hat called out, "Ravenclaw!"

The crowd cheered secretly in silence, and I yelled out, "Yes! Not Hufflepuff!" Not that there's anything wrong with Hufflepuff, of course. Anyhow, Dumbledore called down more students, I was kindly greeted by the house prefect and joined my fellow Ravenclaw classmates comfortable and secure in my chosen house, which is renowned for its students' wit and intellect, just like me!

In the following weeks after classes commenced, I set out at once to determine what I would like to accomplish at Hogwarts. How to make my mark, as it were, but not a Dark Mark, but like... a _Light_ _Mark_! I wondered, "should I concoct my very own Philosopher's Stone? (What's that? Hmm? Never heard of the Philosopher's Stone? Oh, it's like the Sorcerer's Stone, but not as gaudy) Become the head of Gryffindor's Quittich team, and lead them to a World Cup championship? Or perhaps study the intricate rules of magical law, and become the youngest Minister of Magic ever?"

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to me, while I had set out to attempt these noble endeavors, I had apparently developed quite a devoted little secret admirer, or perhaps even multiple admirers. For in my third year, I was so focused on my studies researching Nicholas Flamel's famous stone, that once Valentine's Day came, I received not one, mind you, or two or three, but no less than eight hundred valentine letters.

That's right- _eight hundred!_

That's probably more than the heart-throb vampire Amarillo Lestoat himself has received his entire undead life! There were so many owls, they had to shut down the great hall, they did. By those numbers almost every girl in Hogwarts must have sent me a letter. Lily Potter did always love being my potions partner... um, ahem, may she rest in peace... or, um, whether even the esteemed Dolorous Umbridge sent them herself, I guess we'll never know!

Anyway, in my fifth year, as I was quickly rising through the ranks of the Ravenclaw Quittich team, my secret admirer then emblazoned my name forty feet high on the Quittich Posts. Can you believe it? Yes, I suppose it is a rather good name. Oh, who can blame them? I sure couldn't when I saw each resplendent letter sparkling in gold.

I wondered who it could have been? Maybe it was Sybil Trelawny? Did she gaze into that crystal ball of hers and see a future? Perhaps the answer lies in the Department of Mysteries, who knows?

Unfortunately, however, despite my record-setting performance, I had to bow out later that season due to a terrible knee injury that still haunts me to this day, for I so planned to take Ravenclaw to the championship that year.

Oh well, the best laid plans of mice and men...

Regardless, one of my many admirers still continued to try and woo me from afar, because on one chilly night, after some miscreant student cast the Dark Mark above the Owlery, shortly thereafter someone else, I'm embarrassed to admit, then cast my own handsome face in the night sky above it, blotting most of it out with my own visage as it hung in the air like a portrait made of fireworks, a _Light Mark_ indeed!

As it so happened, I was just walking back from the library when I saw a group of students in the courtyard gazing up, slack-jawed at its beauty.

The popular James Potter squeezed his swotty little girlfriend Lily Evans close, and whispered, "can you believe it, love? Here, at Hogwarts?"

Lily shook her head in awe, "Who would do such a thing?"

I leaned close, smiled and said, "I know... such detail! And so accurate too, they even got my smile!"

Sirius Black shoved me and rudely snarled, "Are you daft, man? We are talking about the Dark Mark! It must have been someone in Slytherin."

Looking back, it's obvious now that Sirius was just trying to cover for his allegiance to the Dark Lord, and although I never trusted him, I didn't suspect it at the time, a real shame too because of happened later, one of my few, if only, regrets from my time at Hogwarts.

Peter Pettigrew then added, "Yes.. must have been someone in Slytherin... perhaps Lucius!" He was always too trusting... poor Peter Pettigrew. I hope Sirius Black rots away locked up in Azkaban for a good long while.

Anyway, trying to cheer up the morose group, I then added, "well, whoever did it, my face sure put that drab old Dark Mark to shame, let me tell you!"

They thought about it for a moment, and Remus Lupin just shook his head, stared wistfully up at the full moon, and scratched at his neck, "I don't know, but I don't feel well. We should all get going," and they quickly walked away, their spirits clearly buoyed by my illuminated visage looking out above them.

"Toodle-oo!" I said, but was too far away to hear Sirius's mumbled reply.

And really, who knows who did it? Maybe the Dark Mark was merely a distraction? Perhaps a little Veritaserum might get Bellatrix herself to admit she was perhaps more smitten with yours truly, than with old You-Know-Who.

Well, I can only hope the students took solace in my glowing countenance during those dark, terrible times... and really how could they not? But around that time, I had begun to wonder about life beyond Hogwarts after graduation- I had not accomplished all that I had set out to do, and so I felt a smidge lost, unsure of what career I would pursue. That all changed a few days later, though, when I was called into the front office to speak to Dumbledore about who had cast my face in the sky that night, despite the fact that I absolutely had no idea at all.

I was waiting outside in the hall, when I saw the up-and-coming journalist Rita Skeeter step out of his office and sit down across from me. I recognized her face from The Daily Prophet articles about the Ministry of Magic's battles with You-Know-Who and his army of Death-Eaters.

"Excuse me?" I said, "Aren't you Rita Skeeter?"

She looked up from her Quick Quote Quill and said, "I am, darling. I'm was just interviewing your Head-Master for a book I'm writing about him, care to give a quote?"

"Um, yes, I think that... um, Dumbledore is the... best-"

"That's great, I'll be sure to use it, darling." She smiled and went back to writing.

"Pardon me, but do you enjoy being a journalist?" I asked out of curiosity.

She looked up from her parchment and thought for a moment. "Well... yes, I suppose I do. I love to write, I get to meet fascinating people, and travel the world. Why, do you want to be a journalist?"

"Me?" I wondered to myself for a moment since I had never really given writing a thought. "Maybe...?"

"Just start writing articles, then _Poof!_ \- you are journalist. Easy-peasy, darling... and after you graduate, give me a call, I'll set you up in the mail room at The Daily Prophet. They're always looking for strapping young lads such as yourself" and she gave me her card and winked.

Moments after that brief, strange, and serendipitous exchange, Dumbledore called me into his office to interrogate me about the Dark Mark incident. He sat at his desk and asked me a series of questions about that night. Finally, after nearly an hour, he said, "so you have no idea who put up the Dark Mark... or, clearly more important to you, which one of your many _admirers_ put your face in the sky that night?"

"No, unfortunately I do not." I answered, completely perplexed about the whole matter. "But... you know, there might be a way to get to the bottom of this."

Dumbledore stood up and rubbed his temples. "Oh, yes? How's that?"

"Well... if we had a school newspaper, we might be able to get students to report on what happened, you know... anonymously. Perhaps they would prefer confiding in a fellow trusted student rather than a professor, and then that student could write up a report on what they learned. And then-"

Dumbledore just sighed, and walked over to his Pensive and said, "alright, fine, just... just get out of my office. I have a headache!"

I exclaimed, "thank you, you won't regret this!"

I was flattered, for he proceeded to pull out his memory of our meeting, and flung it into his Pensive, clearly to enjoy later without having to lose any wonderful details, and I thought, "well, well, well, what do you know?" For I had convinced the old codger with my logic and grace after all, and thus began the first student newspaper in the entire history of Hogwarts, as well as my own auspicious writing career.

Soon I was up and running, and issue after issue sold out. Also, as lead reporter, editor-in-chief, and photographer, I receive quite a few accolades for my various in-depth exposés on the founding members of Hogwarts, it's various ghosts, and its unique culinary history. At last, I had finally found my calling and during my final year, the newspaper became a tremendous success, and the letters column overflowed with praise for my penetrating prose- I was now well on my way to a career in the epistolary arts.

I ultimately graduated from Hogwarts in 1983 at the top of my class, despite the awful addition of Professor Snape, and his best attempts to fail me in my potions class.

Next stop- _The Daily Prophet!_


	4. Ch 3-Nudd Ludlow

Chapter 3-

The Strange Disappearance of Nudd Ludlow

After graduation, I sought employment at the most respected bastion of magical journalism the Witching World over, _The Daily Prophet,_ and Rita Skeeter was kind enough to introduce me to her editor at the time who happened to be none other than the esteemed Barnabas Cuffe, who would, of course, later become Editor-in-Chief, Esquire. He was rather impressed with my accomplished articles from Hogwarts and said, "You're hired... for now."

"Why, thank you! I was thinking I could start in the Magical Sports dept-"

"You'll start where everybody starts," he said puffing his old-fashioned oak wood pipe.

"Where's that?" I asked.

He exhaled a billow of little puffer-bellies, "The letters-room, of course..."

I was led to the top floor of the building and when he opened the doors, I saw a teeming flock of owls flying in and out of the largest Owlery I've ever seen, even larger and stinky-er than Hogwarts. There were letters of every size, shape, and language, along with giant troll-sized bags of correspondence that were being levitated through the air and down the stairs. It was quite an operation, and I finally understood what Rita was talking about.

Rough and tumble as it was though, it was a great learning experience and introduction to the world of magical journalism. I immediately became familiar with the various departments, editors, photographers, and also fast friends with respected journalists such as Betty Braithwaite and Wolf Salamanca, and I, in return, impressed them all with my zeal and hard work, and in a mere couple of weeks I rose to the top of the mail-room as quickly as a Golden Snitch.

Shortly thereafter, Pomona Sprout left the newspaper to start her tenure at Hogwarts, and there was an opening in the letters column for a reporter to answer questions about household pests, herbs, and plants. I applied for the position and easily outshone the other applicants, and since I had done similar reports back at Hogwarts, I took over the section easily and as smoothly as possible. It's hard to believe, but in a matter of a few weeks I actually surpassed all of Sprout's readership numbers, and exceeded her grand total record for fan mail, so much so, that the old boys in the mailroom thought it was a hoax.

To that I say- _preposterous poppycock!_

Also like at Hogwart's, I quickly became a well-known and trusted voice at The Daily Prophet, and I confidently answered all sorts of difficult and perplexing questions like; what's the best way to get rid of hinkypunk, how to eradicate devil's snare, and the best balm for doxy bites. I also continued to develop my personal writing style and intimate relationship with my beloved readers that continues to this very day.

However, as popular as my column was, for this went on for just over a year, my ever-restless thirst for adventure began to nag at me like some old sea hag. I was comfortable and making an honest wage, but did I secretly yearn for more?

 _Hadn't I set out to be a real journalist?_

My answer was to come shortly thereafter in the form of an old second-hand passed-over assignment. At that time in 1984, Rita Skeeter had become one of _The Daily Prophet_ 's most popular reporters, ever since her articles on Uno-Hoo's demise from The-Baby-Who-Lived's last year Halloween showdown.

After the old Snark-Lord had disappeared and his atrocious army had fallen, Rita's stories had shifted to the high-profile trials of the captured Death-Eaters. She was there for regrettably much too busy to write a follow-up on the disappearance of a little known retired Auror named Nudd Ludlow, who had recently gone missing a few months earlier.

Although I didn't know him personally, Nudd was actually somewhat of a local hero from my hometown of Bristol, and was fairly well respected back in the days before You-Know-Who and his army of Death-Eaters nearly overwhelmed the Aurors and rest of the Ministry.

I had been chomping at the bit for months to take on a real story, and after much persistence and charm on my part, Editor Cuffe finally said, "Fine… knock yourself out, but, uh… make sure to use your vacation time for it."

"You got it, sir!" I said and gave a small salute.

So, I set out at once to find out what had happened to Nudd and did a quick bit of research from the Prophet's archives (which is as almost as astounding, and disorganized, as its owlery). I ripped out Nudd's picture from an old article where Nudd was with his former partner, Auror Willem Self. In the picture they had arrested Igor Karkaroff, and were dragging him into the Ministry of Magic. In the looping, moving photograph, Auror Ludlow had short-cropped brown hair, bright eyes, a slight smile, and he reminded me of someone I couldn't quite place. He was with Auror Will Self, who was pale and wiry, with a shaved head and severe-looking expression, and together they definitely seemed like the classic Good Cop/Bad Cop. I searched through the rest of Nudd's articles- more cases of Death Eaters, petty Thuggies, and a history of uncovering "cold" or "dead" cases with crimes long thought to be lost to time. Then I found a small article about Nudd's wife Ariel also reported missing about six months earlier. That's a little strange, I thought, and looked for a follow-up article but didn't find anything.

After leaving the Daily Prophet, I wondered what happened to poor Nudd and his wife, as I traveled from my flat in London, up past Middle Hope and Portishead Pier, and followed the dark and churning River Severn north, to my old hometown of Bristol, and I briefly stopped in for a cuppa with Mummy, who was doing quite well along with the rest of the family.

After the tea, I traveled downtown to the Old Node Inn for witches and wizards, since this was where Nudd Ludlow had supposedly been seen last before he disappeared. I walked up to the wooden door that was covered in Nordic runes and stepped inside the dark and musty inn. It smelled like burnt mushrooms, stale mead, and day-old fish, and I stepped up to the few patrons at the bar and asked around to see if anybody there had known or talked to Nudd recently. Either nobody had, or they didn't want to talk about it, and to be honest I began to wonder if the stench was coming from the pub or its patrons.

I pondered this thought as the Rolling Stone's _Beast of Burden_ played in the background (I always did like Muggle rock music), I spotted a group of old wizards in the back, drinking Butter Beer, and when I walked up as they were arguing about something as they played a game of Wizard's Chess. One of the men, an Englishman with a long, braided red beard said, "I tell you, Bristol should be proud, we should, for I bet you on a good day the Severn bore could be number one in the world!"

A dark and dapper-looking bloke spoke, "I don't know, I hear the Bay of Ungava is much bigger."

Another wizard, larger that the first two put together, with long black hair, semi-rotten teeth, then added with a heavy German accent, "...and don't forget the Bay of Fundy."

I couldn't help but join in and said, "cheerio, old chaps! Being from Bristol myself, I don't mean to be _bore_ -ing, but what's the Severn... _bore_?"

Impressed with my punning wit, he yelled to the pub, "sweet Fanny Adams, that's what I'm talking about! He don't even know his own land or his own history, for Godric's sake!"

Turning back to me, he explained, "it's when the ocean enters into the Bristol Channel and has one of the largest shifts in tidal range in the world!"

"Oh yes, of course, a _bore_ , I believe that was in the Sunday Prophet's Crossword." I said, "but seriously, why don't they just call it a wave?"

The red-bearded man scoffed. "What? A wave and a bore are two completely different things. Waves are random, the bore is caused by the tides!"

"Really, how fascinating..." I said, and we spoke a little longer of the bore's speed, size, and path up towards Avon-Mouth and beyond, and finally I subtly shifted the conversation to Nudd.

The red-bearded man sighed, "Forget about him, Nudd was a loon. Ever since Ariel, well... you know. He wasn't always, but-"

The German said, "Nudd was always a bit... different, and when he got his hunches couldn't see straight-"

Red-Beard gave him a look, and grabbed his glass, drank up, and smiled, "...he did always have some crazy ideas. But when he lost that lady of his, he went off his rocker."

I spoke to a few more wizards in the pub but none of them really seemed to want to talk to me. I stuck around for a while anyway, nursing the same watered-down Butter Beer, when finally, the old haggard and crippled owner, Trent Aegir, started opening up to me. He said he was one of the last people to talk to Nudd, and informed me that like usual he had been investigating recent rumors about Death-Eaters.

"What kind of rumors?" I asked finishing up my over-priced Butter Beer.

The wizened man, complete with a steel eye-patch and grisly grey beard said, "That they were looking for one of the… _Thirteen Treasures."_

"Really?" I replied with a dramatically raised eyebrow.

He squinted, "Yeah, ...you know the Thirteen Treasures, don't you?"

"Oh, yeah, of course, they are some of my favorite treasures..." I paused, so he would know how serious this was. "So, which one was it?" I asked him, although I already had a pretty decent idea myself.

The man looked around, and then whispered, _"The Cauldron..."_

"The cauldron?" I asked, just to make sure I heard him correctly.

 _"...of Dyrnwch."_

"Dyrnwch?" I asked.

 _"The Giant."_ He said.

"The… Giant?" I repeated incredulously.

 _"_ Yes, _the Cauldron... of Dyrnwch, the Giant"_ he whispered.

"No, not the _Cauldron of Dyrnwch the Giant_! You don't say, well, that just sums it up." I replied now that I understood, for I had been foolishly thinking about a different magical cauldron.

As a test to see how much he really knew, I waited for him to continue, but he just smeared a dark brown smudge around a glass mug with an old dirty rag.

I asked, "well, what's it do... boil meat incredibly fast?"

Aegir nodded. "Aye, it does that..."

"What's all the hub bub, then?" I said.

He slowly leaned over towards me. "Well, the rub is... with a piece of the deceased it supposedly has the power to grant life after death."

"Oh... I can see why the Death-Eaters might want that," I replied.

"But isn't it lost just like the rest of the Thirteen Treasures?" I chuckled, at least remembering that much from my OWL.'s, "There's no way they'd ever find it, right?"

Trent looked around at all the smiling faces in the crowded bar and nodded. "I certainly hope so, brother. I certainly hope so."

I walked out of the inn and took a stroll, as I am apt to do on such cool, crisp evenings. There were a few wizards mulling about next to the River Severn and I tried asking them about Nudd, but got the same general answer- that he was a broken man from the war with You-Know-Who, and after what happened to his wife Ariel, he finally snapped.

I began to wonder if there was really a story here, or perhaps if he was another casualty of the Great War- the damaged veteran who is now just some unfortunate homeless person somewhere. I walked around trying to convince myself that's all it was, that everything was as it seemed, and nothing more. Which, sadly, is the worst kind of story. Really, it's not even a story... it's just, like, facts. And facts aren't necessarily the same as a story, or for that matter, the truth. Oh, sure, they can lead to the truth, but they have to be peeled back, as it were.

Anyhow, as I strolled further along, I saw a well-dressed man walking past a Knight Bus Stop, in a jacket, suit, tie, vest, and of all things, a bowler hat. I thought that it was slightly odd, but being quite fashionable myself, I completely understood, and considering some of the questionable nightgowns certain Head-Masters choose to strut around in, it didn't seem to be too out of the ordinary.

I walked up and struck up a conversation, I was always quite good at that, and eventually asked him if he knew Nudd Ludlow.

The stroppy man growled, "What's it to you?"

I told him, "Don't worry, I grew up around here... and was, um, old friends with Nuddy."

At first the man just nodded, then he said, "No... sorry. Don't know him."

We chatted for a little bit longer about the weather or some such thing, and I noticed his perfect clothes, but I didn't recognize the designer, which is a little unusual for me now that I think about it. I started to leave him to resume my stroll, but as I walked past him, however, I noticed he had a piece of some sort of seaweed, or aquatic plant, on his bowler hat.

I leaned over and tried to pluck it from atop his hat, and said, "I think you've got a leaf or some-"

He yelled, "No! Don't touch me!" and quickly jerked back.

I replied, "Don't worry old chap, let me help." and reached out further.

The obviously rude man then jumped away, and took off running down the road, "No, don't! See, I got it! Just some… Gillyweed is all... please, just leave me alone!"

Gob-smacked, I replied, "Well, I say good day to you, sir!" and quickly walked the other way. As the sun began to set, I continued my stroll all the way up the bank of the river to the next bridge, and walked across it, for I always liked bridges, especially London Bridge, of course, and mulled over what everyone in town had said about Nudd as I watched school boys race paper boats in the rushing waters below.

I gazed off into the distance, as the crepuscular rays of light faded in the dusk, and I saw the glowing reflections disappear in the dark waters of the River Severn. I eventually came to the conclusion that there was probably no real story here and turned back as the last of the daylight faded away into darkness. I couldn't help but notice the bridge was suddenly empty, as a thick foggy mist rolled in quietly and quickly.

And it was then that I saw them.

Rising up like bubbles from the foam of the splashing waters of the River Severn, a swarm of sylphs swirled in the misty moonlight. The sylphs (which, if you failed your OWL's I'll inform you are a type of water-based fairy, but don't tell them I said so, because they really hate being compared to their more popular cousins, and really, who can blame them) delicately drifted over, and began to condense and shimmer in the air like dew drops glistening on a spider's web. I rushed over to the river's edge, and they flew to me and started to speak to me their strange language that I couldn't understand.

I leaned over the railing, and called out to the strange, diminutive creatures, "Do you know why I'm here? Do you know where Nudd Ludlow is?"

They stayed close to the river's edge and kept speaking to me in hushed tones that I couldn't quite make out, but their pitch kept rising higher and higher, till it was almost frantic and shrill, and it sounded eerily like a warning.

So, quite naturally, I shouted as slowly as I could, "Nuuuudd? Nuuuuudd Luuuuudlooooow? Doooooo yoooou knooooow hiiiiiiiim?"

They seemed to be spooked by something in the darkness, for they quickly took off, diving into the river, disappearing back into the ripples of the water, and they were gone as quickly as they appeared.

Wondering what that was all about, I started walking back to the Old Node Inn, and listened to the sound of the river's splashing when I began to hear whispers. I looked around to see if the sylphs had returned.

"Hello? Is anybody out there?" I called out, but there was no reply.

I began walking again, and after another moment the whispers returned, and this time I could tell they were coming from the river. I nimbly jumped over the railing and skidded down the steep embankment towards the lower level of rocks and gravel that lines the river's edge at low tide. I listened closely, but all I could make out was the splashing of the waves upon the rocks.

"Hello, hello, hello? Ollie-Ollie-Oxen-Free?!" I yelled and looked up and down the shore of the river, but there was no one there.

When I went to climb back up, I could hear something that sounded almost like whispers bubbling up from the dark water. I turned back around and climbed down closer, then, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of something in the water- something shiny and sparkling. I walked over to the river's steep edge, and climbed down even further, being careful not to step into any puddles because I was in a pair of my favorite shoes (and don't blame me, they were real dragon-hide leather, and cost a goblin's mint down in Diagon Alley) and because of the glare of the moonlight, I leaned over the water to get a better look, and could see something glowing down in the water that looked like gold.

I must have stretched over a little too far, because a moment later a particularly large and unexpected wave splashed me, making me lose my balance, and knocked me down into the icy river below, all snookered-like. Not to worry though, because being the quite agile swimmer, there was no need for alarm, for I quickly swam up to the surface of the water, and over to the steep embankment to climb back up the rocks.

However, when I tried lifting myself up out the water, something grabbed my left foot and wouldn't let go. I quickly grabbed at the rocks and tried desperately to cling to them, when the creature swirled around my leg and yanked me back down into the icy waters.

A slimy tentacle-like grip wrapped tightly around my leg and up my torso, and it pulled me further down into the black water. I wriggled around, and with a particularly powerful kick was able to free my leg from its vicious embrace and successfully swim up to the surface.

But a moment later the vine-like grip returned, grabbing both legs this time. It pulled me back down into the water and wrapped up my legs and around my whole body, including my arms and hands. I swam as fast as I could back up to the surface, but the tendrils slithered up around my neck and head, and across my face, and tried pulling me down into the water again. It covered my eyes and nose and tried wiggling into my mouth as I gasped for air. I bit down hard, and a foul-smelling goo squished into my mouth (and let me just say for the record that it was way worse than any Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Bean I have ever tasted, by far).

The slimy vines pulled me back down under the water deeper than ever this time and wouldn't let go. But at the last moment, as I began to lose consciousness, I mustered up all the strength I could, and wiggled a hand free. I was able to get just a few fingertips on my wand that I had tucked in my jacket pocket.

With my last breath of air, I gurgled forth the spell of _"Relashio!"_ and broke free from the creature and swam back to the surface. After I climbed out of the river, I could finally see what had attacked me. Still clinging to me in bits and pieces was, rather oddly, an interlocking rope of dark brown, foot-long flobberworms all knotted and tangled up together. A few squirmed off of me and wiggled back into the River Severn.

I climbed back up on the road, shivering in my soaking wet clothes. Looking at the dark muddy waters, I thought about how unusual it was to be attacked by a group of flobberworms, mainly because they don't usually start becoming aggressive and making complex shapes till mating season.

"Keeps getting earlier ever year..." I said to no one in particular, as a vague yet unsettling feeling settled over me as I thought about the strange behavior of both the sylphs and flobberworms. Cold and wet, I trotted back to my lodgings as my squishy and soggy dragon-hide shoes squeaked loudly in the darkness of night, and I hoped it wouldn't be too difficult to get the taste of flobberworm slime out of my mouth.

But it was.

It was really, _really_ difficult.


	5. Ch 4-Her name was Sabrina

Chapter 4-

Her Name Was Sabrina Hafren

Dripping wetter than a re-steeped tea bag, I returned back to the Old Node Inn, cleaned myself up, and tried to get a decent night's sleep. Unfortunately, however, I still had some river water trapped in my left ear and I couldn't drift off and I kept tossing and turning, which was bad enough with all the muffled swooshing and swishing, but to make matters even worse, all night long there was music coming from the next room. And it was the absolute worst kind of music; no, not polka, jazz, or even opera, oh yes, I'm talking about bagpipes! The worst sound in the history of the world!

And I'm not being hyperbolic either, their piercing wail is clearly somewhere between an asthmatic elephant and nails on a chalkboard. I'm definitely one for tradition, culture, and all that, but since my ancestors made music with something that sounds like a whale passing wind through a clogged blowhole, I think we'd better switch to the saxophone instead.

Eventually, drums and other instruments drowned out the bagpipe's drone and a woman began to sing softly with the most wondrous voice, so I was finally able to fall asleep.

I dreamt of being underwater with the slyphs and they kept speaking to me in garbled bubbles.

All I could make out was, "How do you like your eggs?"

Which seems like an odd thing to say, but I suppose they always are, in dreams...

The next morning I woke up and hummed the melody to Mr. Blue Sky as I showered, groomed, and dressed. I wore my finest baby blue velour double-breasted suit, with a crisp white button-down shirt with a pair of flare-cut dark blue pants, complete with my deerskin wallet and belt combo. I was impeccably dressed and ready for my day, and if you are still in any doubt, let me just assure you, I did indeed looked quite dashing.

I brushed my teeth, and gargled repeatedly with Spirit-Mint mouthwash and had hoped it would get rid of the aftertaste, but no such luck- the flobberworm slime flavor was still there.

"Mourning Breath." I said to nobody in particular.

Also, my left ear still had water in it. I tried shaking it out, jumping on one foot, and using a cotton bud, but despite my best efforts it was all to no avail.

I went to get my wand off the nightstand but strangely enough it wasn't there. I looked around and checked the bathroom, the bed sheets, and my suitcase, and still couldn't find it. Finally, I looked under the bed. It must have rolled under the bed and in between some old floorboards, and so I called, "Accio Wand!"

But it wouldn't budge, like it was stuck or caught on something. I got down flat on the floor with dust and dirt all over myself. "Great, I just cleaned this suit!" I crawled under the bed and reached out and grabbed the wand. I said, "Luminos" and I saw that there were some Latin words scribbled on the wood. Most were too faded, but I could read- _quaerenti defuit vigils._

Something about a missing lamb? Searching for a missing lamb? Mary had a little lamb? I thought to myself that it seemed like an odd place to graffiti a nursery rhyme.

Oh well, I reached out past the trash and dust, grabbed my wand and went downstairs. I walked up to the bar and told old Trent Ageir, "I want a cup of your strongest Swirl-Grey Tea possible… and how about you whip me up some of your best Black Pudding!"

"Is that all?" He asked with his one cold dead shark-like eye watching me.

"You know what? Give me… a Black and White Pudding!" I requested.

"Sure, mate." He sniffled.

"You wouldn't happen to have any hot sauce, would you?" I was desperate for anything to get rid of the Flobberworm flavor.

His bloodshot black pupil bulged at me, "Hot... what?"

I thought about it, "Hmmm, what about some horseradish?"

"Sorry, mate- all out." He spat in a cracked glass and wiped it out with his dingy old rag.

"Then just a Razzleberry scone, with extra marmalade on the side." I replied and sat down on a wobbly wooden chair and began reading a grease-smudged copy of The Daily Prophet that had been left on the table. That day's front-page story by Rita Skeeter was about the fallout from the Minister of Magic's own son being revealed as a Death Eater, and about Igor Karkaroff, who was arrested by Nudd Ludlow's old partner Willem Self.

As I ate my scrummy black and white pudding, I read about how Auror Self was now working with a new partner -Sadie Smith, and they were now following up on information gleamed by Igor Karkaroff's ratting out Barty Crouch Jr. and whole bunch of other Death-Eaters, and they were now looking for some of Crouch Jr's old partners, and there was an artist's rendering of the notorious Death-Eater Vesto Slipher, with his somber dark eyes and slicked back black hair braided in a long lock that reminded me of a scorpion's tail. Next to him was a drawing of Zwicky with wild blue eyes and crazy frizzy red hair, and then there was someone with the ominous name of John-the-Obliviator, who was wearing a mirror-covered Death-Eater mask, and his drawing looked a bit like a disco ball in a holocaust cloak.

The three seemed familiar, somehow, but yet I couldn't quite place them. In any case, I opened the paper up to finish reading the article, and on the inside there was a picture of Nudd's old partner, Auror Willem Self. He's with his new partner, Auror- Sadie Smith, who had soft brown eyes, and was dressed in a smart tan pea coat with most of her dark curly hair wrapped up in a bright patterned scarf. However, at that specific moment, much more importantly to me, was that my left ear still had water in it and was beginning to ring.

But that changed however, for when I put down the paper, the two Aurors- Self and Smith, whose pictures I had _just_ been looking at, were actually sitting across from me at the table.

They looked pretty much like their photos, and at first I wasn't sure if it was some sort of optical illusion or whatnot, so I picked up and put down the newspaper a number of times before Auror Self grabbed it and yanked it down. I blinked, and rubbed my eyes, and finally said, "Oh, hello! I was just reading about you two, and now here you are in front of me, what a lovely coincidence! Pardon me, would either of you happen to have any hot sauce on you?"

Auror Self paused for a long time, rubbed his stubbly beard and then looked at Auror Smith, and replied, "You... taking the mick?"

I said, "The what? No, I'm quite serious. You see, I have got the worst aftertaste-"

Auror Self interrupted, "Stuff a pock in it, we heard you're asking questions about Nudd Ludlow, what's it to you?"

I replied, "Well, thank you for asking, you see... I'm a very successful reporter and I-"

"A reporter, ooh la la!" Auror Self said mockingly, "You hear that Smith? We got ourselves a real Beetle-the-Barf over here."

I politely retorted, "Um, technically I don't think that he was-"

"Belt up!" Auror Self said and ran his hands through his non-existent hair on his bald head.

"A reporter huh? I read the Daily Prophet, maybe I've heard of you. What's your name?" Auror Smith then asked me with a much more polite and professional tone.

I informed her, and her eyes slowly scanned my expression. She said with a slight Jamaican accent, "No, can't say I have, sorry."

Then Auror Self leaned over, "Wait a second... Lockhart? Where do I know that name. Lockhart? Lockhart... I know, oh yeah- ha, ha, ha! My wife is always harping on about your advice for getting rid of gnomes in the garden! She loves your column."

"Oh, ta!" I smiled.

"But..." Auror Self leaned over the table, and proceeded to growl in my face and seethed, "I don't like taking advice from nesh duffers!"

Unsettled, I whispered, "Oh, well, you certainly don't have to, it's just my opinion, there's no need to get all shirty- "

"Then shrove it!" Self yelled out, and slammed his wand on the table.

Various wizards and witches in the dining room were staring at us, and Auror Smith stood up, and waved her badge around, "It's alright, we're Aurors on official Ministry business. Please go back to your breakfast. We're taking care this, no need to be alarmed."

The witches slowly looked away, and Smith turned back to me, "So, what do you know about Vesto Slipher?"

"Not much," I honestly replied. "Only what I just read in today's Morning Prophet."

"You telling me you've never had contact or ever met Slipher?" Auror Smith asked, with a raised eyebrow.

"No, why?" I asked, looking up from my blue Razzleberry scone.

Auror Self spat spittle across the table, "What about Zwicky?"

"No... should I?" I asked.

"Did you have any contact with Zwicky or Slipher last night, the night of April the Twenty-Fourth?" Auror Self asked, with a note of condescension.

"No, I followed up on some leads and came back here and ate in the dining room and headed to bed." For some reason, I neglected to mention the part about the slyphs and flobberworms.

Smith looked at my mooncalf's skin-leather bound notebook and its open pages from when I was reviewing my notes. I shut it quickly when he asked, "What were you doing on the Severn Bridge last night?"

"I was just taking a stroll after dinner here... why?" I asked, trying to suss them out, and I started to wonder if what happened last night might be a potentially bigger story than Ludlow himself.

The two Aurors exchanged a brief glance, then Auror Self replied, "Just take my advice, Newspaper Man... and stroll right on out of town before you get yourself killed."

Auror Smith got up and added in a sad voice, "Or worse... you don't want to end up like Ariel."

I was confused and asked, "What do you mean? I thought Ariel... was murdered."

Auror Self and Auror Smith both exchanged a glance, then Smith leaned over and whispered, "No... it's confidential, but Ariel is technically still alive. She's resides in the Janus Thickey Ward at St. Mungo's."

"Blimey? Why, what happened?" I asked.

Auror Smith looked forlorn, "She was... Oblivated."

"Oh, I see..." I said.

Auror Self turned red and whispered, "Do you Nancy-Boy? Because it was Vesto Slipher and his gang who did it, and he'll do it to you if you get too close!"

They both walked over to the fireplace, grabbed a handful of Floo Powder and Auror Self yelled out over to the bar, "Oh yeah... don't think we forgot about you, we'll be seeing you again soon, Trent!"

They threw the Floo Powder down and poofed away.

"Fare thee well..." I waved.

Trent Aegir snarled something under his breath, but "Looking forward to it, you little-" was all I could make out.

When I settled my tab with Aegir, he leaned over and said with an accent full of salty sea air, "I never liked Will, he always thought he was too good for Bristol, he did, and when he became an Auror it went right to his head."

"He's from here too?" I asked.

"Unfortunately..." He looked down and tried wiping away some smudges from his bar.

"So did Willem and Nudd go way back?" I tried to be as tactful as I could, hoping after the Aurors left, he would now let something slip.

"Oh... yeah, they grew up together. Sometimes I wonder if something went down at the Ministry and wouldn't surprise me if Nudd took the fall for it."

"You think he was forced into early retirement?" I asked, genuinely surprised, "The Ministry hasn't ever mentioned anything like that."

Aegir leaned over, "What did you say your job was again?"

"Reporter..." I explained, thinking Aegir must have had too many Butterbeer's already this morning, I repeated it as slowly as I could, "I'm... a... _reporter_."

I left the small inn, and kept heading north to investigate more. I walked up the sidewalk and breathed in the crisp fresh spring air. The early morning sun was sparkling off the river, and I could smell the brackish water as the Dickensian-like fog rolled in (which goes without saying is really just smog- no, not Smaug, mind you just, but just like regular smoke from factories, please just try to follow along as best you can) and I continued on my journey walking along the water up towards Berkeley.

As I did so, I watched the tides change, and the water level quickly rose. I kept walking till I reached the point where the channel enters into the river, and the bore rolled in several successively big waves near a dock that lead down to a shoreline filled with white sand where there were small crowds sunbathing, and people with canoes, kayaks, and small boats. I strolled along as families and children played along the bank of the river and watched the little groups mull about. However, a little further up, away from the other people, I saw a mysterious, dark haired woman in long purple dress appear through the fog. She looked like some sort of old-fashioned gypsy, and she was wading out into the shore, washing some clothes.

The clothes she was washing, strangely enough, were the first thing that caught my eye, for they were an exquisite gold silk and sequined bespoke suit, fit for a king, with a finely woven fabric that reflected through the fog. The woman washed the jacket and vest with sea-foam, and when the tide retreated, the water carried with it a dark, murky red color that bled out into the surrounding water. She continued washing the clothes, including cummerbund, pants, and cape, till all the vestments shone brightly in the sun. When she finished, the tide was moving rapidly in, and she stumbled along the sand.

I walked over and called to the fair maiden, "Do you need some help, poor stumble-y woman of the river?" and held her hand and helped her walk across the sand and up out of the river.

I asked, "Why are you washing clothes in the river?"

She just gave an enigmatic smile, "I've just... always liked it better that way."

Intrigued, I inquired, "Whose clothes are those?" and I admired the intricate lacework.

She laughed, "Would you believe I don't even know!"

I thought she might have been some sort of crazy muggle, but instead of wringing out the wet clothes, she pulled out her wand, did a spell to dry them off, and quickly popped them into a small handbag that was less than half the size of what she put in.

She stuck out her hand, and asked, "So, what's your name?"

I shook her cold wet clammy hand, and introduced myself, and then she said, "I am Sabrina Hafren... and I'm pleased to meet you."

We walked along the river north, and we started chit-chatting and talking about the Severn Bore. At some point, there was a workman who was on a ladder and she made sure to walk around it. A little while later, there was a black cat on the side of the road we were on, so she crossed over to the other side.

I asked, "You're a little superstitious, aren't you?"

She said, "Yes, I try not to get to carried away, but it's better to be safe than sorry, init?"

"That's true... I suppose." I said.

She smiled at me, "Oy, don't tell me you don't have any superstitions, or good luck charms?"

"I suppose not... unless I can count my smile as a good luck charm?" I beamed a future award-winning smile at her.

"No, it doesn't work that way, it has to be something you carry from your past, something you found or was given to you for good luck." She tilted her head.

I said, "I believe we decide our own fate."

She replied, "Perhaps..."

We walked up the embankment for a while, and afterwards we passed an old woman standing on her houseboat that was docked on the shore. The dilapidated houseboat was swarming with a large flock of birds and there were all sorts of crows, ravens, and magpies. She was standing outside on the deck, waving and yelling, "Can it be? Is that you! Maggy? Hello?!" She waved some more, and yelled out, "Oh Babushka, you're home just in time for dinner!"

Sabrina quickly turned away, and said, "Just ignore her, she's just a crazy old lady. Sometimes she even thinks I'm her grand-daughter."

The old crooked and haggard woman was limping and used a Shillelagh, and as she leaned on that blackened and knobby walking stick for support, I thought it looked oddly like a giant wand. She also had the dirtiest and raggediest clothes and long tangled frizzy silver hair.

But that wasn't the odd thing, for you see the strangest part however, was that she had the longest nose I've ever seen.

I'm being completely seriously when I say it had to be six, no- eight, no- twelve inches long. It hung down past her mouth all the way past her chin. At first I thought she might have been a goblin, like at Gringotts, but she was much too tall, almost as tall as a half-blood giant, in fact.

I quickly looked away, "That's too bad. Maybe she belongs in St. Mungo's."

Sabrina looked down the river and said, "Yeah, maybe there should be magical retirement homes, too, yeah? Like Hogwarts but for old gits. They could each have houses like Slytherin and Hufflepuff!"

"That's a rather wonderful idea." I said, and we continued chatting. I mentioned what I was doing in town, and asked if she knew Ludlow.

She quickly grabbed my arm, looked around, leaned in close and whispered, "Yeah, I knew Nudd, and it's... not safe what you are doing."

"Now what's all of this then?" I said.

"If you are looking for Nudd, they will kill you just like... they killed him!" She seethed with hostility.

I asked, "Who? Who killed him?"

She glanced around again, and with sad dark eyes said, "It's not safe for me to talk, if they find out they'll hurt me."

"Why" I asked. Three down and two to go on the old five W's, even in the beginning, I was brilliant as a journalist.

"They followed You-Know-Who, and they have eyes everywhere. Leave now, stop looking for Nudd if you want to live." She pushed me away.

"But what happened to him?" I asked before she could walk too far away.  
She paused, "Nudd was always a great Auror, maybe the best. But he wasn't..."

I waited silently as the river's waves crashed.

"... such a great husband." she sighed and looked away.

Well, looking back I'm impressed at my bravery, because I did not turn back but I forged onward, and I said, "I don't understand, what do you mean? What does that have to do with his disappearance?"

I walked a little further and she seemed like she wanted to talk, but then suddenly she looked scared, and said, "I can't... I'm sorry not here, it isn't safe."

I stepped close to her and grabbed her arm, safely but firm, "Please, just tell me what's going on?"

I glanced around and saw what she was looking at- two old men who looked rather small and weak, walking along the shore, feeding bread to seagulls.

I let her go, and we meandered up the road. We walked in relative silence and I kept thinking about what she said. I tried to convince her to go into a record store, "Look, those old geezers won't follow us in here."

"I hope you're right." She said.

"We'll wait here and then head back." I took her hand- It was shaking.

We walked in, and checked out the latest records by The Smiths, Duran Duran, and The Cure. The whole New Romantic look was big at the time, so I was able to blend in quite well with my frilly shirt and Vestorian jacket.

I stopped and listened to some David Bowie, and I tried laughing off Sabrina's idea as paranoid. As I put the headphones on her and we listened to Wild is the Wind, however, the same two men from before walked into the store, and just kept walking up and down the aisles stealing glancing at us.

While they were near the back of the shop, I grabbed her hand and we quickly ran out the front and then down the back alleyway behind the store. We both pulled out our wands and I could see the fear on Sabrina's face. Suddenly, a large rat jumped out of a garbage can, and she nearly fainted.

"It's alright, stay close... I'll protect you." I whispered, as I held her close and we made our way past a brick wall covered in the same repeating Siouxsie and the Banshees' poster.

We skedaddled our way down a few more side streets and I thought we had lost them, but then at the end of the alleyway, I could see the shadows of the two old men stretching out from the side alley.

"Quick, run!" I told Sabrina and we took off as fast as we could in the other direction.

My heart was pounding as we ran away, past more alleyways and side streets, but the two shadowy men stayed close behind.

They started launching spells, so I had to cast back a variety of self-defense charms in order to protect Sabrina. I fought them as well as I could, and thought I had stunned one, but unfortunately, they stayed close in pursuit.

"Look, there's no need to get all narked!" I yelled at them, but it didn't seem to calm them down any.

As I ran past the filth and trash, I was able to blast the two men back, and get away for a little while. But when I rounded a corner, they somehow ambushed me from both sides. Up close, I could see that the two attackers no longer appeared as old men, but were now presently in their Death-Eater disguises. One was shorter, with a sad-faced silver skull mask, and the other one was taller with a smiling gold skull. They were like an evil version of the Drama and Comedy masks- Thalia and Melpomene, however, they were not divine muses- but evil men. In any case, they both must have been wizards of exceptional skill and strength because they quickly blasted me with "Stupefy!" and I was immediately rendered unconscious.

It's late at night when I eventually wake up, upside-down, all tied up in a dark warehouse that smelled like death. I felt like I was going to honk all over the place, and I looked over and saw Sabrina bound and hanging upside-down as well, but she was still unconscious. I tried wiggling out of my constraints unsuccessfully while I saw below me there were bone-tallow candles lit in a circle around us on an old wooden and dusty floor, and in the middle of the candles were runic symbols I couldn't quite recognize, scrawled in what I hoped was red paint.

After a brief moment, I felt a draft in the room, and the candles swayed a swift, synchronized little dance back and forth and then suddenly stopped.

Slowly, as if in a dream, the two Death-Eaters stepped out of the surrounding darkness with their wands raised towards me. Together they yelled "Cruciatus!" and the most unbelievable pain ripped straight through me, as if I was being electrocuted... on fire... while getting a root canal.

And, I kid you not, it sounded just like bagpipes.


	6. Ch 5- The Thieving Magpie

Chapter 5-

The Thieving Magpie

After the two Death-Eaters took turns torturing me for what felt like hours, they interrogated me about Nudd, the cauldron, and everything and anything I knew about it. Finally, the taller Death-Eater with a shiny smiling gold mask stepped forward and said, "Nudd had to pay the ultimate price, but now... it's up to you to find the cauldron!"

I pleaded, "What? You want me to find it, I don't even know where it is!"

He laughed, "Nudd ruined our original plans, so now it's your problem! You will locate it!"

The smiling gold skull slithered up to Sabrina, who was still hanging upside down in the air passed out, and he grabbed a handful of her hair and said, "If you don't find it, we are going to kill her!"

I tried reasoning with them, and said, "I don't know if you've quite got the right man for the job, what if some Aurors could find the cauldron for all of us? I met the two most-"

The black shroud with a shining golden smile shouted, "Quit playing the fool! We have secret agents working at the Ministry, and if you try to tell the Ministry, or anybody else, we will make Sabrina pay with her blood!"

I sighed, "But... I don't know where the cauldron is, where do I even start?"

The tall gold smiling mask said simply, "Nudd kept heading north along the Severn river... that is all we can tell you. You have two weeks."

"Two weeks?! How am I going to find something in a fortnight that's been missing since bloody Camelot?"

"Again, that's your problem!" The smiling gold skull laughed.

"Well... even if I did find it, how would I contact you?" I stammered.

"Don't worry... we'll be watching you." The sad silver skull sneered.

Unfortunately, that did in fact worry me. The gold and silver skulls raised their wands towards me in unison and yelled out "Stupefy!"

What felt like a little while later, I woke up on the shore of the River Severn where I had first seen Sabrina wading out into the waters. I tried to move, but my muscles screamed out in pain. My body felt torn apart from the inside out, my bones ached in the marrow, and I was pretty sure I had developed a rather sizable hernia. However, the good news was I finally could no longer taste the Flobberworm slime, but the bad news was that my ear seemed to be getting worse as the ringing was now of a substantial volume and was beginning to grate.

Then, for some strange reason Kate Bush's song "Babooshka" popped into my head and thankfully the ringing slowly subsided. When my eyes focused on my immediate surroundings, lying a few feet away from me was my precious wand which was tossed haphazardly in the wet sand. Beyond it, the crazy old crow lady's houseboat slowly floated along the sparkling water. After what could have been only minutes but felt more like hours, the tide started rolling in and its cold waters began to soak me. I lifted myself up out of the surf, as if I was some primordial being rising forth from the sea. Imagine what a sight that must have been with the sunrise behind me, with my hair hanging down all soggy and wet, the sand on my face- Never mind, let's just say it was probably a pretty awesome sight to behold.

I looked over and saw the flock of ravens, crows, and magpies flying around the old crazy lady's houseboat. I remembered a nursery rhyme from childhood that my mother used to sing to me in her beautiful voice-

"One for sorrow,

Two for joy,

Three for a girl,

Four for a boy,

Five for silver,

Six for gold,

Seven for a secret,

Never to be told.

Eight for a wish,

Nine for a kiss,

Ten for a bird,

You must not miss."

I hadn't thought about that song in years. Such strange songs children learn, do they ever actually mean anything? I supposed not, and I leaned over to pick up my wand, when out of nowhere a magpie flew down and scooped up my wand right in front of me.

I yelled, "Stop bird, and cease your tomfoolery! Return my wand, post haste!"

But the magpie just ignored me and flew back over to the houseboat. I chased after it along the shore, but I couldn't swim for it because it was too far away in the middle of the channel. Further ahead, I saw there was a bridge, so I ran up to the top of it, and waited till the houseboat passed underneath. When the houseboat peeked out from underneath the bridge, I leapt from the edge and splashed down into the river behind the boat, somehow missing it completely. To this day I'm not exactly sure how that happened.

Anyway, I quickly swam up and grabbed onto the back of the dirty barnacle-covered houseboat, as the bird flew up to the top of the roof. I looked around but didn't see the crazy old lady. I wondered if this houseboat had anyone steering it as I pulled myself up.

Quietly as I could, I snuck around soaking wet, and tried climbing up the side of the house to the nest. The old witch popped out of nowhere, "Oh, hello! Is that you Bran? Are you here to help with the chores?"

I thought about what Sabrina had said about the crazy lady, and for a moment I considered saying yes, but didn't feel right about taking advantage of an old confused woman. Instead, I tried not to stare at her ridiculously large over-sized nose.

I answered, "No, sorry, my name's Gilderoy and it seems one of your magpies has absconded with my wand and I'm trying to get it back, if you wouldn't mind?"

The old witch just laughed, "Oh, yeah, that one just loves 'em, he does! Just a second."

She pointed up to a shingle with her walking stick, and with a spell she lifted up a whole flap of shingles, and pulled out a large nest made of various wizards wands of all types of woods and shapes. I dug around, found mine, and pulled it out. She put the nest back and covered it up.

"Thank you, so much!" I said, trying not to look at her nose without making it obvious.

The old witch coughed, and then said, "You're welcome! I don't get many guests you see, it's been a long time since any of my grandchildren came to visit. And my vision's pretty bad, these days I'm practically blind, you see? I thought you were Bran... you look just like him."

"I'm sorry, I wish I could help." I said.

She smiled a toothless smile, "You can just call me Granny Yaga."

I introduced myself and I began to bid her adieu when she leaned over, grabbed my arm and said, "It's just that I could use some help with the chores, you see, and Bran was supposed to help to today, but he is always so late, that silly child!"

"Hmm, yes, was he now? Oh well, I really must be going." I tried to wrestle my arm away, but her grip was rather strong for such an old helpless woman.

"Oh, I'm just a sad old woman, and Bran promised, he promised he did! And now... I'm left all alone... without a soul to help me." She started sobbing and crying.

"Oh, don't. Please, just stop...it's not slightly," I offered her my sky-blue silk monogrammed handkerchief, and she blew her enormous nose into it with a series of loud wet honking noises that sounded like a broken foghorn.

When she was done, she held out the handkerchief to give back to me.

"Um, go ahead and keep it." I suggested.

"Are you sure?" Her eyes were large and goopy.

"Let it never be said that Gilderoy Lockhart isn't a gentleman!" I replied.

"Oh, thank you." She smiled, and then tossed it onto a pile of other gentlemen's silk monogrammed handkerchiefs in a Wicker-style trashcan that I had previously failed to notice.

"So, you'll do it? You'll help me like a true gentleman?" She said with slimy watery eyes.

I summed up all the reluctant strength I could, and figured I owed her since she let me get my wand back, and sighed, "Oh, I might be able to assist you... I suppose. But I do have a bad knee from an old Quittich injury, so please no heavy lifting... doctor's orders!"

She nodded, "Good, good, it'll be easy for someone like you."

"Oh, will it now?" I sincerely doubted it.

She walked me over to the starboard side of the wonky houseboat, where there was some rope and buoys leading out across the river and asked, "Could you help pull up a net from the river?"

It didn't sound too difficult, so I replied, "Oh, this? Certainly, of course."

I went over to the net and helped her pull the line in, and frankly, I definitely did most of the work, for she hardly did any pulling, but honestly it wasn't all that difficult.

Once we pulled the net onto the deck, we untangled an assortment of old junk; a rather large toothbrush, a set of rusted skeleton keys, a few Puffskeins, an old boot, a hat, a crooked astrolabe, some Gillyweed, a chipped whetstone, an old skive covered in flobberworms, more broken bits and bobs, and a white porcelain doll's head with rotted-out eyes. When I held up the cracked doll's head, a baby firecrab crawled out of its mouth.

Granny Yaga smiled and pointed at the net, "It's a pretty good trawl today... You can take anything you want. You see anything you like?"

The dodgy doll stared at me, and I thought about bringing it home and cleaning it up. Then I pictured it haunting me at night, and it staring at me in my room when I wake up, with its white skin glowing in the darkness.

"Oh, no thank you, I couldn't possibly!" I politely replied.

She informed me that since I didn't choose anything, she still wanted to thank me somehow and despite my protests, she grabbed my hand and led me into her small houseboat. When we stepped inside it opened up into a large spacious hallway much larger than what appeared on the outside, and I assumed this must have been a witch of quite some considerable power.

She led me through the skew-whiffed hallway and into something that resembled a crumbling Edwardian palace in shambles, cluttered with antiquated furnishings all overgrown with dust, decay, and spider webs. She had all sorts of paintings, vases, sculptures, furniture, knick-knacks, and souvenirs from all over the world, and from every era of history and culture all crammed together like something you'd see in a museum's basement. Strangely enough though, the interior designed (sort-of) worked, with an early Renaissance painting in Art Deco frame hung on top of an Egyptian papyrus wallpaper covered with hieroglyphs, that was next to a surreal Remedios Varos painting, and so on and so on...

As we walked further into the mildewy foyer, it opened up into a large three story library where there was bookshelf after bookshelf of every conceivable language and subject, complete with one of those rolling-attached-latter-thingies. I hopped on and wheeled by a whole collection by one of my favorite authors- S. Morgenstern, in original Florinese, along with original printings of out-of-print books by Italo Calvino, V. M. Straka, and C.S. Lewis. Then strolled by a collection of epics by Blake, Kildare, Bryon, and countless others, and of course, not to mention the classic "How to Drain your Flagon" by Crustinda Crudwell.

These long out-of-print tomes were stuffed on the shelves next to open bottles of wine from every vintage, all mixed in with random trinkets like a stuffed Yeti-hand here, and an antique music-box there. I could also smell the distinct wretched scent of rotting food nearby and tried not to gag. We walked pass row after row, and I said, "I don't mean to intrude... please don't bother on my account, I really-."

Granny Yaga shook her head and a small moth flew out of her hair, and she said, "No, it's no bother, I want to thank you!"

After a few more twists and turns, she led me to her kitchen, which was like a giant hearth, and she took out an old pewter pot and heated up some Pumpkin Juice. I tried gnawing on a rock-hard biscuit with marmalade, and she said, "You see, I was waiting to give Bran a raven to take to Hogwart's, but he hasn't shown up, and my daughter doesn't always keep him on a tight schedule, she's too busy running around being a Bohemian."

I sat up to leave, "Yes, you know mothers these days! Well, anyways, I must be-"

She asked, "Do you think you could drop off the bird for me?"

I said, "Oh, I don't go to Hogwarts anymore, I graduated."

She said, "Oh, that's wonderful Bran, I'm so glad for you!"

I said, "I'm not Bran, I'm Gilderoy, remember?"

She squinted at me, "Oh, yes! Now I remember... Gilderoy! Of course, well, could you drop off the raven for my dear grand-son Bran?"

I tried convincing her that there were better ways, but she kept insisting and finally I had to reluctant agreed, despite the fact that I had no intentions or plans to ever return to Hogwarts ever again.

I asked, "Is it all right if I could I drop off the bird when I'm done with my investigation, as the case I am on is of urgent importance?"

She said, "Yes, that's fine. Thank you! Now you should try my world famous pumpkin juice, what?"

"What?" I said.

"What-what?" She replied getting the pot.

"Wait... what?" I asked, confused now.

"Now was this then?" She asked as she poured the steaming chunky orange liquid.

"What-what, init?" I informed her and took my cracked and patched Shinto teacup.

"Oy, oy, oy... what-what!" She confirmed, and put the pot back on the hearth, and I finally understood what she was talking about after that completely typical and normal British conversation. I stirred the hot pumpkin juice with a Nordic looking spoon and placed it on the Rococo plate and took a sip and I was surprised- she could indeed brew quite possibly the best pumpkin juice ever, even better than my own mother, which heretofore I would have thought impossible.

I drank the pumpkin juice up, and it actually reminded me of the first time I had a sip- it was the turn of Autumn and my family and I were at a tattoo at Berkeley Castle, where they had a carnival set up with a whole Renaissance Fair. I remember the northern wind was swiftly moving in, and the leaves were changing colors. I had been busy watching a Mr. Punch and Judy puppet show (an entirely inappropriate subject for a children's play) and forgot to check the temperature of the drink, and I accidently scalded my tongue taking much too large of a sip. I hadn't thought of those days in forever.

Back in the hearth, Granny Yaga said with a smile, "The secret is no apples."

I replied. "No apples, got it. Well, I must be-"

"and extra carrots, and sweet potatoes..." She said.

"Carrots and sweet potatoes, check and check! It's really quite superb, but unfortunately I must be going."

"...with cinnamon. Don't forget the cinnamon." She insisted.

"With cinnamon, got it! Absolutely wonderful... well, again I really am on a tight schedule-"

She added, "And no pumpkins either."

"No pumpkins, got it! Well, ta-ta for now!"

"Oh, I forgot, let me get you the bird!" The crazy old woman said.

"Of course! Must've slipped my mind..." I said, unable to skive off her request.

She went away and then came back with a large white raven in a gilded golden birdcage.

She lifted it up, and it squawked in my face, "Na-na ka!"

I asked, "Am I to carry that thing around with me where ever I go?"

She said, "No, here... put it in this." Then she handed me a small silk coin purse with a baroque pattern design edged with gold and pearls, and she stuffed the much larger birdcage into the small handheld coin purse, and back out again, and handed it back to me.

"Is that safe?" I asked, as I held up the cage and looked the bird in the eye.

She laughed, "Oh, I do it all time, it's fine! Just tuck him away when you need to and take it out when you get to your lodgings."

"Ka na-na!" The bird said.

I said, "Well, I had best get going, I am heading up the River Severn and really must be making progress."

"Why didn't you say so?" She said, "You can use one of the small dinghy's I've got tied up out back. "

"Thank you, that's very generous but I can't-"

"No, I insist." She said brusquely, and used her old knobby blackthorn walking stick to get up. I reluctantly agreed once again and she led me to one of her two dinghy's tied up in back, a scarred and barnacle-covered ten-foot long Dory, and she said, "Oh yes, now I know you!"

"You do?" I asked.

She grabbed my arm excitedly, "Yes, you were with that girl, what's-her-name, yesterday... on the beach."

"Oh, um... Sabrina?" I inquired.

She pulled me close, "Yes! Sabrina, that's it! I see her around here from time to time, is she your girlfriend?"

"Oh, no! I'm not tied down like that, I'm free as a bird!" I exclaimed and tried to wrestle my arm away with the cage in my hand.

The old lady sighed and patted me on the back, "Oh, that's too bad, you two made a nice couple together."

I pointed out, "Not to worry, I'm quite the bachelor, let me tell you." and placed the coin purse in my pocket, put the bird in the boat, and gingerly climbed into the tipsy, rocking dinghy.

I untied the dinghy from the houseboat and said, "Thank you for letting me borrow this, I'll be back to return it later, Granny Yaga- cherrio!"

I grabbed the oars, gave them the old heave-ho and rowed away. As her crows circled around her, Granny Yaga stood on the deck of her houseboat and waved, "Goodbye, and good luck!"

"Ta again, pip-pip!" I shouted as the current helped push me along.

After some distance she called out, "...and don't forget to write from Hogwarts, Bran!"


	7. Ch 6- Where the Wild Bucca Splash

Chapter 6-

Where the Wild Bucca Splash

Setting off in my small dinghy, I rowed up the river towards Berkeley and navigated around some graceful swans and geese, but let me say, just for the record, that there were indeed some rather vicious and bloodthirsty ducks.

Yes, that's right, ducks!

And just for the previously referred-to record, let it be known that ducks and I really, really, _really_ just don't get along. I don't know if they can tell how delicious I find them, but they tend to get pretty aggressive around me. Yes, it's rather nauseating with all of their strutting, preening, and honking, and how at the smallest perceived slight, they savagely go on the attack. So blood-thirsty and foul, and can you imagine such a self-important and pompous creature? I hear the Muggles believe they are descended from dinosaurs (dinosaurs are what the Ministry convinced Muggles that's what the bones of dragons really are) and it's not a feather-brained idea if you think about it.

I made sure to steer clear of the ducks and continued to row as swiftly as I could up stream. Fortunately, I did quite a bit of sculling on the old Ravenclaw rowing team (I would have just said _crew_ , but you'd be surprised by how many wizards and Muggles alike aren't familiar with proper rowing terminology, and don't know their _poagies_ from their _coxswains_ ) and I quickly made some headway up the river.

Wanting some company, I took out Granny Yaga's coin purse and went to pull out the birdcage with the white raven in it. I reached in and I first pulled out a pair of silver scissors, and I reached in again, and pulled out an empty lantern, a glob of hard toffee, an antique egg beater, a broken telescope, a pack of black liquorish gum (which is the only _wrong_ gum by the way) and then, finally, I reached down even further and pulled out the birdcage.

The large white raven just cawed and pecked at me.

I looked at it and asked, "How did I end up with you?"

It snapped at me and squawked, "Na na na!"

"Settle down..." I insisted.

I rowed up the river for most of the day, and fortunately the sky was only a tad overcast so there was a little sun peeking through, and the typically grey and cloudy sky had large patches of blue, and you could feel spring was coming in the air. I continued rowing and made my way past old shops and buildings that led up the river through picaresque Berkeley, in Gloucester County, which positively looks like it has been plucked out of some Olde English Fairy-Tale, with its classic rustic and storybook charm.

I docked the dinghy at a local park's dock and went into town, where I stopped into at the Hammer and Tongs bistro to get a quick bite to eat. I looked at the menu for a nice light meal. The waiter arrived, and I said, "I have the blood sausage with a bit of jellied eel."

And let me assure you, in case you've never had it, it's a real pick-me-up! I asked the waiter for the way to Berkeley Castle and he gave me directions. After enjoying my traditional British meal, I headed outside the restaurant where _Tusk_ by Fleetwood Mac was playing from an old beat-up VW van as it idled by. I walked back to my dinghy and set off down the river again. I had saved a bit of squidgy jellied eel, and then fed it to the bird.

"Fa la la-la la la-la!", the white raven said, and it seemed thankful. Well, as thankful as a bird can seem.

I looked at the white raven and said, "I just realized I don't even you're your name. Do you even have a name? My name is … Gilderoy Lockhart!"

The bird just squawked, "Ka! Ka! Ka!"

"Well... I never!" I said, "What about... Raven?"

The bird just stared, "Na-Na-Na."

I tried out several more, "Birdy? Tweety? Twiggy?"

The bird cleaned its feathers, "Na. Ka."

By early afternoon, I had rowed up the Little Avon River and continued North-East, and I passed under a few old stone footbridges that reminded me of the days of Camelot and King Arthur. I had always loved the stories I read as a child of chivalry, knights, and fair maidens and here among the scenery of the quaint homes and cobblestone roads, I could picture their processions and journeys and I swear I could almost hear their horses and carriages.

I looked at the bird and said, "How about Lancelot?"

The bird tried to snap at me, "Ka."

"Gawain? Lamorak? Tristan?"

The nameless bird squawked and peaked at the cage, "Na! Na! Ka!"

I said, "Okay... there's no need to bite my head off, what about... Sir Kay?"

The bird nodded, jumped up and down, and squawked, "Ja! Ja! Ja!"

"Really you like Kay? All right... Sir Kay it is then. I like it! Sir Kay was always one of my favorite knights of the round table."

The bird hopped around the cage happily and started singing, and it almost sounded like a nightingale. I had heard ravens could imitate the calls of other birds but this was rather uncanny.

"Well, Sir Kay, unfortunately, I am all out of jellied eel at the moment, so, sorry... no more for you!"

I rowed up towards Berkeley Castle, and said to Sir Kay, "I had heard once that Edward the Second's Ghost still haunts the grounds, maybe he could tell me where the Cauldron was located?"

Sir Kay chirped, "Eh…"

"Oh, what do you know?" I replied, and figured it was as good place to start as any, since I was quickly running out of leads already. I knew Nudd headed north after Bristol but that was the last anybody had seen him. I continued rowing up the little muddy river among the trees and shrubby, it was overcast at this point and a light shower began raining down, so I fashioned my wand into an umbrella and let the rising current take me upriver, for even here in the tributary the Severn Bore was affecting the tidal shifts of the water level.

I watched the rain trickle into the river, and at the water droplets spreading out in the liquid. Pretty soon some wild bucca (which if you've never seen one before, looks like a cross between a mud-skipper and a large frog) swam to the surface and began splashing around in the drizzling rain, and I continued to row up the small river, making sure not to row into any of them. Bucca are amphibious, so the younger ones still have got their tails and stay in the water, but the older ones hop up onto the mud and grass with their hind legs and long webbed feet. The adults did their funny little dance on the bank of the river and their dark mottled bodies glistened while they grokked their strange mating call and blew out their red throat pouch like a bubble.

Sir Kay started getting excited and began to squawk and flap around in his cage, so I said, "Calm down, calm down…"

Once the rain began to subside and the droplets let up, the bucca finished grokking and jumped back into the water and swam away. The rain left a fine mist in the air and I watched the evening sun shoot forth beams of light through the sparkling canopy of trees above (or I could have just said _crepuscular rays_ again, had you been paying any attention earlier). Faintly, in the distance, I could hear a pack of dogs barking and I didn't think much of it as I made my way through the mist and around a bend but after another moment I heard a faint bugle call and could make out that the dogs were in fact hounds, and they were barking more closely now.

As I approached another covered little bridge, I saw something move next to me on the riverbank. I spied through the fog what look liked a fox's shadow moving in the mist. Then I realized it wasn't a shadow, it was actually a black fox, with a light silver streak down its face and belly. He had an odd look about him and bright eyes with a rather odd bushy black uni-brow that made it look as if he was always surprised. The fox came trotting up the side where the hound dogs sounded like they were coming from, and he looked at me and lowered its ears and tail.

He looked sad and alone, not to mention a little scared, like he didn't have a friend in the world, so I felt bad for the strange looking fox whimpering in the misty fog. As upper-class and refined as I am, believe it or not, I've always sort of looked down on hunting. I'm not some crazy vegetarian or anything like that, and I understand the thrill of the chase and having to eat and all that as well, it's just... I don't know, maybe deep down I don't have the stomach for the _coup de grace_ , as it were, and sitting in the boat in that particular moment I just couldn't _not_ do something.

So I said, "Oh, come on!" and rowed up to the edge of the canal, whistled, and patted the wooden plank next to me.

The fox just tilted his head and looked at me with its light green eyes for a moment, like it was trying to decide if it could trust me.

Then the sound of the hound dogs barking started up again, closer this time- just over a hill or two. The black fox looked around, scooted back, then jumped into the dingy with me. The Sir Kay cawed at the fox, who just yawned at it in return.

"Quiet, you two..." I whispered, and I rowed up to a bridge and hid under it in the mist and shadows. Soon I could hear the hunting party and the hound dogs barking up the road. They came up the road and I could hear horses and men yelling. They raced over and stopped on the bridge above us. The black fox, white raven, and myself waited in silence while the men above quickly discussed strategy and then raced off south.

I waited a little longer till I could be sure they weren't coming back, and rowed out from under the bridge to the river's edge. The black fox jumped out onto the wet grass, ran in the other direction, and didn't look back.

"Well, you're certainly welcome!" I said to the fox as it disappeared in the mist.

I rowed up the river to near where Berkeley Castle was, and I put away the white raven in the magical coin purse and tied up the dingy. I got out and walked up the street to where the castle grounds were filled with locals and tourists sightseeing, and I made my way up the stone path to the castle.

I walked up to the tour guide and up asked the old man, "Excuse me, could you please direct me to Edward the Second's ghost?"

He laughed, and just shuffled me along rather brusquely, "To the right and watch your step, young man."

As the sun began to set, I walked down to the right and looked into the small dark rooms hoping to catch a glimpse of Edward II ghost. But no such luck, for either he was out haunting somewhere else on the grounds or perhaps I was just unworthy of this particular aristocratic apparition, either way I'll never know. So, instead I bought a caramel apple and finished up the tour getting stuck with a group of visiting Japanese teenage schoolgirls, who giggled excitedly and took goofy pictures anytime there was a medieval torture device.

I tried inspecting the dungeon, but the Japanese schoolgirls kept posing in all kinds of horrific deaths, all the while smiling and making the peace sign, and I said, "Well, I never!"

It was rather upsetting, I'm mean, this was a place of refined British history and culture... not a place to hamming it up and lollygagging about!

And I'm pretty sure the flash from their cameras kept Edward the Second's ghost away... so there's that too. I wandered around and took a gander at both floors of the castle's old cold crevices, but I didn't find Edward or any other ghosts for that matter, just more giggling and laughing school girls unfortunately driving me a bit barmy.

The sun was beginning to set, so I started to head back to my dinghy. I tried walking South-East across the castles grounds, saw a lovely little Jackdaw fly by, and I wondered if I should take up bird watching. I then realized I was going in the wrong direction, and so turned back around, and booted off through the woods heading West. After I walked through the misty twilight for a while, I heard the sound of a woman laughing and the echo of horse's hooves.

For a moment I thought the foxhunt might have come back, but when I looked down the misty moonlit street, I heard a high pitch howl and emerging from the dusk, there was a woman dressed in a flowing black shroud, complete with large black feather trim and the bleached skull of a large bird, some sort of raven, for her mask. She rode upon a skeletal-looking black horse that had glowing red eyes, it's mane and tail was flowing grey smoke and there were large hook-like spikes sticking out all over, and I know what you are thinking- a bird riding on a horse is a rather preposterous image, but believe me, in person, it was pretty terrifying.

I tried calming myself, and I yelled out, "Excuse me, I'm looking for Edward the second's ghost, would you mind helping me-"

Silhouetted against the street lamp, the horse reared back and the woman screamed again, and it sounded like a howl from the netherworld itself.

"Blooming hell!" Quite naturally, I began running the other way and I took off through the forest. She kept up a fast pursuit, and I realized I didn't much enjoy being hunted myself. I tried to leg it back towards the castle but I got mixed up again, and headed in the wrong direction from whence I thought I had returned, and I instead wound upon some side street I didn't recognize.

Echoing all around the misty woods, I could hear the Witch of Berkeley riding her Nightmare as it chased after me. I tried casting all the spells I could think of- but nothing seemed to stop her, she repelled them all with her dark magic.

I tried to remember any stories I could, and I recalled that my Mother once told a ghost story on a Halloween long ago and said that once upon a time the Witch of Berkeley was one, if not, the most powerful witch, with a large family and was well respected. What people didn't know, however, was that she had apparently created a Horacrux in her youth and used it for money, fame, and love. And in order that no one could find her Horacrux and destroy it, she threw it into the Berkeley River, and it washed away downstream.

Yes, she got what she wanted, but in the end the guilt began to drive her mad. She worried day and night that an evil most foul would attack her, her family and all her loved ones. She returned to the river and tried finding the Horacrux in order to destroy it, but despite decades of magic, she was unable to retrieve it. Later in life she became stricken with an illness no medicine could remedy, and on her deathbed she informed her children of the evils she had done in her youth. She instructed them to sew her up in a stag's hide and bind it with chains, and seal her in a stone coffin alive while performing a certain spell, then the Horacrux could not bring her back to life, even if it sought her out. Even though her children had done exactly what they were told, something had gone wrong, she kept returning, time and time again.

After running through a small clearing, I could see gravestones in the mist, "What do you want from me?" I shouted out.

"I want your soul!" She cried.

I ran behind an old shed, and the witch in all her phantasmagical glory, rode up to me.

"Please, you don't want mine! It's in terrible shape!" I yelled out to her, then in an instant she leapt off her horse all the way over to me and knocked me down.

"I will eat your soul!" She screamed, and her hands were like bird's feet, knobby and wrinkled yellow, and with long sharp talons and they pinned me down and dug into my shoulders.

She leaned over and stuck her giant raven skull mask in my face, "Looks like you're the prey for tonight!"

I yelled "Stupify!" and it knocked her back, but not completely out.

I ran away from her as fast as I could, but she flew after me again and knocked me down in front of a large tombstone with a marble statue of an angel. With one of her powerful claws she grabbed my neck and squeezed my throat.

I couldn't breathe, her talons drew blood, and she whispered, 'Good night, sweet prince-"

Then out nowhere the black fox, from earlier, jumped out and bit the witch on her bony claw-like, yellow hand and it sprayed a dark black blood across the bird's skull mask. The witch cried out in pain and let go of my throat, so I could breathe again. The fox tore at her mask and ripped it off revealing a hideous bird-faced woman, and she howled and screeched in the night.

I yelled, "Incarcerous!" and chains shot out of my wand and wrapped around her. She struggled but couldn't break free and I stepped on her loose arm as the black fox pinned her other arm down.

All I could think to do was going back to the Castle of Berkeley, for they might have a deerskin rug to bind the witch, but that would take too long. I could try hunting for a deer now, but that would take too long as well. Finally, I thought about my deer skin gloves but those were to small, although I did have my deer skin leather belt and wallet.

I un-did my belt, and tied her up, then I called, "Legardium Levosia"

on the angel-statue tombstone and eased it over the witch.

She was now wrapped in stag hide, bound in chains, and covered with stone. "That should hold you for at least a little while!"

I walked over and pet the black fox and it's fur was the softest I have ever felt, and the fox seemed to smile at me. It then ran around in circles and laid down and began cleaning itself.

"Is this really the best time?" I asked.

I turned back toward the witch pinned beneath the tombstone, "I'm looking for Nudd Luddlow, do you know him?"

The bird woman just screeched, "No!""

I said, "I'm also looking for the Cauldron of Dyrnwch the Giant, do you know where that is?"

The bird lady stopped and looked with large deadened black eyes, "Not Dyrchwch! Mab! Cauldron of Queen Mab!"

I asked, "Queen Mab's Cauldron? Isn't that a different cauldron?"

The raven-faced woman cried, "Dyrchwch stole the cauldron! Stole the cauldron from Queen Mab of Annwfn!"

I didn't know anything about that and was unsure whether she was lying or I hadn't paid attention in Magical History class that day, so I said, "Well, where's the Cauldron now?"

The Witch of Berkeley screeched, "Morgan Le Fay stole it back, and hid it in the Glass Palace so the giants couldn't find it!"

"Where is the Glass Palace?" I demanded.

"Her castle stood over where the Severn forks." The Witch hissed, "Now let me go!"

I asked her, "What happened to you? I thought the Witch of Berkeley was a ghost but you seem... human, sort-of."

The woman said, "I allowed the ghost of the Witch of Berkeley to possess me, and she transformed me and made me stronger!"

I handed her the cracked and half-broken raven skull mask, and said, "I'd like to let you go, but how do I know you won't just attack me again?"

She looked at me, and gave the most blood-curdling laugh I had ever heard, even worse than Bellatrix Lestrange.

I said, "You know what, I think I'd better just be going now..."

She cackled, "Ha, ha, ha! You'd better! I'll peck your eyes right out of your head!"

"I see... well then- Pip pip!" and I ran away as fast as my feet could take me. The fox ran alongside and led me back to my dinghy.

"Thanks, Mr. Fox! I'll never forget you!" I waved goodbye as I rowed away.

The cute little fox with the shiny black fur waited a moment, then just gave a wide-mouthed yawn, and turned around and ran back into the mist.


	8. Ch 7- The Glass Palace

Chapter 7-

The Glass Palace

I rowed back out to the River Severn, docked the dinghy, and checked in at the Pig and Whistle Inn for the night. I ate a delicious meal of Haggis with a side of stewed turnips and parsnips- Mmmm, delightful! I went to bed shortly thereafter, and dreamt that the Witch of Berkeley was chasing after me, and I tried hiding behind a giant crumbled wall that was covered in Runes. It began to rain eels and frogs- literally, and I ran for shelter inside a large cave. I looked down and realized I was walking on broken silver eggshells. I tried picking one up but cut my hand. I stepped back, tripped and fell underground into a large hole like in the muggle book _Alice In Wonderland_ (a much more accurate muggle depiction of magic, to be sure), and I fell for what felt like forever with the wind whistling a strange mournful noise in my ears. It sounded like both a whisper and an echo far off in the distance. Sort of like song being sung in a language I didn't understand but was still familiar. I could hear something else in the darkness, was it the sound of wings? I couldn't completely make it out, but something was out there flying in the darkness, and after a moment of silence it swooped down with three glowing red eyes and its loud roar woke me up in a cold sweat.

In the morning, I reluctantly rolled out of bed and got ready, and unfortunately my ear was really bothering me now, for it was well past a dull, low ringing and it now had become a high-pitched drill-like whine. I went down into the dining room and got a bite to eat, and I ordered a meal of traditional kippers and some baked beans on toast- Ah, the true breakfast of champions! (and not that you probably didn't know, but for the record is a kind of fish stew in a pie crust with the fish heads poking out of the pie. Sounds wonderful, I know because come Christmas morning, literally every British child wants to be the one who gets to scoop up the first slice of kippers!)

I left the Inn and wandered around where the Severn heads North-West in Chepstow, and I continued up the main channel up towards Lydney. I traveled around various dusty magical shops and half-empty enchanted stores and asked about Nudd and the Cauldron of Dynchwch the Giant, or Morgan Le Fay... depending on who you believe. I don't turn up much, other than at one point as I am traveling along Dinurn Ally between two magical shops, I notice among the usual graffiti, some carved Runes similar to the ones from the Old Node Inn. They are scrawled over by some graffiti in Latin (wizards do have a strange idea of rebellion) that says _ACTUS ME INVITO FACTUS NON EST MEUS ACTUS_. Unfortunately, I couldn't quite remember my Latin well enough, so alas, I was unable decipher it.

After a day of fruitless searching, the sun began to set in a deep orange glow and I rowed out to where the Severn River heads north, just like the Witch of Berkley (or the Ghost of the Witch of Berkley- whichever you prefer- I just assume it's one of those Frankenstein versus Frankenstein's Monster type of things) said the Glass Palace was located.

I waited around for darkness to descend, and once night fell, I rowed out to the middle of the fork in the river. I looked down into the sparkling waters as the moonlight illuminated the dark depths below.

When I first looked into the water, I thought it was an illusion. But then I realized I could see a single solitary sylph glowing in the dark water. It swam up and popped out of the water with a small splash. It tried to talk to me in that strange language again, that weirdly, despite my earache, I could now make out specific sounds.

It sounded something like, "Mae hyn yn y palas gwydr, yr ydych wedi dod o hyd iddo."

But I still couldn't understand since my earache was really starting to ring, and I yelled out, "What are you saying? Speak English!"

The sylph said, "Byddwch yn dod o hyd i dân y morgan, bydd yn eich arwain at yr un rydych yn chwilio amdani."

I shouted, "I don't understand, you are just speaking gibberish!"

The sylph grabbed my ear and pulled me over the edge of the boat, and yanked my head down under the water. Beneath the water she spoke again, and this time I could make out the words, "Swim down to the remains of the glass palace!"

I was astonished, for I could understand what she was saying in my "bad" ear, as long as I was underwater, so I asked, "Where are the other slyphs?"

The sylph said, "It's too dangerous for our kind to keep helping wizards, but I had to warn you because if mermaids team up with the Death-Eaters and they find the Cauldron, it will be the end of all of us!"

I lifted my head up and took a breath, and dunked my head back down, "Do you know where Nudd Ludlow is?"

The sylph replied, "No, but we know he traveled to this spot, then headed west across the river into Wales, but we don't know what happened to him afterwards."

I lifted my head up and dunked it back into the water.

"Thank you for all your help!" I said, realizing maybe there were people who would be able to help me along my journey but weren't always able to fight for themselves.

The sylph looked around and whispered, "Listen... when you get down there, cover your ears, so the Lorelei can't enchant you, do you understand?"

I nodded, and took my head out of the water while she still held my ear.

She said, "Pob iwc!" and dove back in the water and swam away.

I tossed the dignhy's small anchor into the water with a loud splash. I took off my pair of dragon-hide shoes, centaur-fur socks, and my blue swede jacket. I swallowed the largest gulp of air I could, and then dove down into the dark murky waters. I gurgled "Illuminous _"_ and my wand made an underwater light. At the bottom of the river there was a mix of rocks, plant life, trash, mud, and algae along with a variety of household appliances, bottles, and children's toys that made a makeshift home for fish, crabs, and eels. Pulling me along in the water, I could feel a small current next to an old muggle refrigerator, couch, and television set. There must be a cavern of some sort nearby, so I kept swimming but was starting to run out of air.

I gurgled "Pneumaticus" and inhaled the wind from the end of my wand and took a big breath of air. (Bet you didn't know you could do that, did you?) I kept swimming further down and could see a small hole next to some large hexagonal stones, and swam into an underwater cave. I could feel the current stronger against my body and I struggled and kicked my legs to swim as hard and as fast as I could through the tunnel.

I swam through a dark tunnel and it opened up into a sort of underwater pool, and as I made my way up to the top, a brigade of bellicose bucca and pugnacious grindelows popped out. They swam around me, clawing and biting, and my blood seeped into the water from a hundred tiny wounds. I aimed my wand at myself and called out " _Wingardium Leviosa_!" and I quickly splashed out of the pool and onto the floor of the glass palace where the bucca and grindelows couldn't get at me.

When I stand up, I finally see it- the famed Glass Palace itself, I was in a sort of circular dome surrounded by cracked and broken crystal columns leading up to a see- through bubble magically suspending the river above. When I looked around some more, I realized the large stones are actually made of crystal, so rather than a glass palace, it is really more like a crystal castle!

The structure was rather impressive- large and spacious, but it was a sad shadow of its once resplendent self, of course, since it was now cracked, broken, covered in seaweed, mollusks, and barnacles. There were also little rivulets running down everthing, and little waterfalls trickling down all the cracked glass stones and ramshackle crystal columns. Large glowing blue-green phosphorescent mushrooms, and green glowing fungus grew along the ground, columns, and walls, so it gave the place an eerie glow with the dim blue-green light reflected in all the crystal, glass, and water.

Still soaking wet, I walked further into the watery crystal-like castle that was magically filled with air and I could suddenly hear singing. It was faint and I tried making more of it out, but my ear kept bothering me too much to clearly hear all of it. My ear kept ringing and a sharp pain kept stabbing at me from the terrible earache. The pain was so horrible, I started scratching and digging at my ear, and I realized something was clogging it. I dug it out, and I saw a dark brown flobberworm egg. The egg was cracked open but there was no worm inside it.

"That can't be good..." I said.

The castle echoes back, "Can't be good, that... can't be good, that... can't be good, that-"

"Echo!" I called out.

'Echo, echo, echo!" The castle responded, stopped, then waited a moment, then started up again, "Echo, echo, echo!" Then it kept doing it like it was taunting me, and it kept getting louder and louder, and it almost seemed like it was more and more mocking. The voice was nasally, condescending, and pompous- nothing like my real speaking voice.

"Stop it!" I demanded.

"Stop it, stop it, stop it!" It echoed back, definitely more mocking this time.

"Enough!" I yelled.

"Enough! Enough! Enough-" The crystal castle echoed, this time more whiney and nasally than ever.

"Shut up!" I exclaimed.

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" It was really laying it on thick this time.

"I DON'T SOUND ANYTHING LIKE THAT!" I screamed. Weirdly enough it was only silence

"Hmm, good!" I said.

"Hmm, good! Hmm, good! Hmm, good!" The castle echoed back.

"Ugh..." This was pointless.

"Ugh...ugh...ugh..."

After a while of this, I carefully walked into a hallway lined with broken marble statues, as quietly as I could. I noticed the walls were covered in Devil's Snare, and the broken marble floor was crawling with large jeweled Fire Crabs. So, I ran and jumped my way through the hallway, dodging the Devil's Snare for most of the way.

Then, just as I was about to leap over the largest ruby-covered Fire Crab I've ever seen, a tendril of Devil's Snare wrapped around my ankle and tripped me up. I fall down hard on the marble floor, my head slamming in the ground inches from the Fire Crab's business end, and my wand goes skittering across the floor.

I went to right myself and stand up, but the snare has already wrapped itself around both my legs. As I pushed myself up and onto my feet the vines wrapped up and around me despite my struggling and writhing. I was tethered to the ground and looked like some sort of Mummy as I tried to remember something to free me from the Devil's Snare. I recalled some sort of nursery rhyme. "Devil's Snare... Devil's Snare... oh curses, what was it again?!"

Finally, I just started yelling at the Fire Crab, "Hey, you ugly excuse for a crustacean! I think I had your Mother for soup last week!"

The Fire Crab's carapace of ruby red jewels began glowing.

"Yeah, that's right! And tonight I think I'll have you with some lemon and butter!"

The rubies glowed a bright sparking red before the Fire Crab turned around and a fireball blasted out its back end.

At the last moment, I leaned into the blast and the fireball exploded dead center on my Devil's Snare wrapped-up chest. The vines burnt into ashes and caught on fire at their tips and recoiled away.

I was able to free myself from the burning vines and leaped over the Fire Crab as it blasted three more fireballs at me. I dodged each bomb with aplomb, and was able to make my way through the hallway and down a staircase. My ear was ringing badly now, but as I descended each step I could definitely hear singing, and decided it must be the Lorelei.

I suddenly felt extremely tired, like I was falling asleep. But, fortunately the ringing in my ear kept me awake. I stepped down into an underground chamber that looked like the entrance way to some sort of foyer. I could hear the singing very clearly now except for the high notes were drowned out by my left ear's constant ringing.

I covered my good ear with my right hand and continued on into the hallway. The singing was still getting through a little but wasn't lulling me into a trance. I made my way down the hall and into a large dining room, where a waterfall was running down over the old fireplace. The floor was cover in water at least a foot deep, and I could hear the Lorelei even more strongly now.

As I looked closely at the waterfall I could see a partial opening, I reached down into the water and pulled up some seaweed and shoved it in my good ear. There was an opening and as I walked through, I could see three Lorelei singing (In case you don't know, Lorelei are a specific type of mermaid, similar to the sirens and harpies of ancient Greece, they are famous for hypnotizing unfortunate sailors and pirates alike. They are half-human and half-aquatic animal, more like the classic 1950's bi-pedal "Creature from the Black Lagoon." than your typical tail-instead-of-legs mermaid. They are covered in iridescent scales, with sharp spikes covering their back. They have both gills to breath underwater, and a set of labyrinth lungs to breathe air. Their hair is like a combination of flowing multi-colored fins and jellyfish-like tendrils that can glow like some sort of Angler Fish. Sailors get enchanted by their singing, they lead you straight to your doom, with their extendable jaws and three rows of razor sharp shark-like teeth) and I walked into their chamber with my best mesmerized look plastered on my face. They continued singing and look pleased to have me in their grasp.

But instead of walking forward towards them, I quickly blasted two of them with "Stupefy!"

The remaining Lorelei lunged at me, tearing at my clothes with her crab-like hands, and she tried to take a bite of my face. But I jerked away and with my wand, yelled out, "Stupefy!"

She got blasted across the room. Once I made sure they were incapacitated, I saw there was another hallway that they were blocking, and I walked into the other room. It opened up into a large spacious hall with a broken circular table made of rotten wood, and broken chairs scattered all around it. At one end of the room there was a large crystal throne and torn banners ripped to shreds. The royal court was surrounded by at least ten giant crumbling statues, all now covered in barnacles, seaweed, and coral.

At the other end of the shambolic throne room, there was a series of steps that lead up to the throne, which was made of the same broken crystal as the rest of the castle.

Sitting upon the crumbling crystal throne was a rather large knight of green tarnished metal that was holding a huge broad sword that was at least six feet of rusted and corroded metal across his lap. As I started to walk up the stairs I realized that each step in the castle was two or three regular steps. I climbed up and got closer I could make out that the knight's armor was originally made of, or covered in, gold that now, over time had been replaced in large patches by a dull and sickly grey-green patina. The once resplendent suit of armor had been tarnished by years of water damage, rust, and the same glowing-green fungus that covered the walls and floors also now covered the knight and thrown as well.

I climbed up to the top of the cracked steps to the enormous throne. The large green knight remained sitting motionless, waiting in judgment. I thought about Sir Gawain and the Green Knight epic poem, and hoped that I wouldn't have to sword fight anybody... not that my fencing skills needed any practice, of course.

I stepped up to the throne and saw that both the throne and the suit of armor were much bigger than normal, at least ten feet tall, almost giant sized. Thankfully, I could see the suit was empty in places where the rust had eaten away the metal, so that was a relief. But when I looked closely, I saw that the helmet was closed but still functioning.

And you just know, I couldn't help but try to open it, but it was all rusted shut. I leaned over and yanked and yanked until I lifted up the front cover off the big helmet with a loud creak.

Inside the rusted helm, there was large pale gray head with a long white beard and hair. At first, I thought it was dead, but then I realized it was lightly snoring. "Could the head just be sleeping?" I wondered.

I then looked down and opened the torso armor, but strangely there was no body, just a baby Fire Crab that scuttled out of the empty chamber.

 _So, it was just a head_!

But the head didn't look rotten or dead. The head looked almost, but not quite, alive. That's rather strange, I thought to myself.

"Hello!?" I yelled at the head, and the closed eye twitched.

"Hello?!" I yelled again, and for a split second one eye popped opened, looked around, and shut itself again.


	9. Ch 8- The Sleepy Head of Bran Blesid

Chapter 8-

The Sleepy Head of Bran Blesid

"What's the story, morning glory?!" I yelled at the decapitated head with its long grey beard filled with worms and seaweed. He reminded me a bit of St. Knickolas, or Gandore the Fey, or even old Dumbledorf himself, maybe he was related to them, who knows? I shouted some more, including some choice schoolboy hex-pletives, but there was still no response from the sleeping head.

"How do you do?!" I screamed as loud as I possibly could in the dark throne room, and I heard a strange sound, which I thought was the head humming something, but then I realized it was coming from Granny Yaga's coin purse in my jacket pocket. I took it out and could hear more whistling and singing.

It must have been the white raven, and so I opened up the coin purse and pulled out a half-eaten cream pie, a circular corkscrew, a wheezing bagpipe, and a unicycle with a flat tire, until finally, I pulled out the gilded birdcage with the white raven- Sir Kay, and he hopped and jumped up and down and all around excitedly and sung a strange yet familiar melody, sort of like _London Bridge_ meets _Three Blind Mice._

"Hello, Sir Kay!" I said.

Sir Kay replied, "He Ba Ra Na!" and preened his feathers, and then said the same thing over and over, "Ba Ra Na! Ba Ra Na!"

The bird clearly had some connection to the green knight because he kept flying around and jumping up and down and whistling, almost as if he recognized him from somewhere. And although it could have been from my earache, I swear at some point the bird said, "Ba-Ba-Bran!"

I asked, "This is Granny Yaga's Bran?"

I swear Sir Kay said, "Ya! Ya! Ya!

Sir Kay flew around the cage and began pecking at the door of the birdcage.

"Do you want out?" I asked.

"Ya-ya!"

"You are not just messing with me, are you?"

"Na-na!" I clearly heard him say.

"Alright, I'm trusting you!" I said, and I opened the cage and he flew out and around, and then landed back down on top of the not-completely-lifeless-head's helmet.

"Get down from there!" I yelled.

Sir Kay kept singing that same song again, but even louder, and I think I see the eye start to twitch again.

"That's it, keep singing!" I instructed the bird.

The bird kept singing, and I tried yelling and banging but the eyes stayed closed. I tried clapping and yelling again, but this time nothing happens. I tried singing loudly, but there's no response other than an occasional eye twitch, and some light snoring, "He must be really sleeping..."

I spotted the bagpipes, picked them up, and started whaling into the main mouthpiece. I made an unearthly howl, and I started squeezing and blowing into the bag, and strangely enough, I sort of enjoyed it. As I figured out the position and placement of the fingering, I began to slowly mimic the basic melody of the song that Sir Kay was whistling.

Doing a pretty decent job, and I thought maybe it wasn't the bagpipe that was terrible, maybe it was the players! Perhaps today's bagpipe wailers have no soul, unlike me, for even though I had never played the instrument before, I immediately started to play the most beautiful bagpipe music I'd ever heard. Finally, the body-less sleeping head opened both its eyes, and the head finally woke up in a fright, and started coughing and gasping. With a thick Scottish accent, the head said, "Shut off that infernal racket, before I skin your hide!"

I stopped playing the bagpipes with a high-pitched wheeze, and I couldn't believe it, the head had indeed come back to life. He bellowed, "I'm trying to get forty winks here, for Crom's sake!"

I looked at the tired, grumpy head and asked, "I'm so sorry to bother you, but who are you supposed to be, exactly?"

The head yawned and said, "Why, any good English boy knows who I am fool! I'm Bran Blesid!"

" _The_ Bran Blesid… from the legend of Annwfyn… who was put underneath London Tower?"

The head sighed, "Aye, that's the one. Hundred of years later, I was moved by that idiot King Arthur himself! Bloody fool thought Britannia didn't need me watching out for her any more now that he was King… and you see how well that turned out didn't you?!" He coughed up some spittle.

"Well, it is a real honor to meet you, Sir!" I exclaimed, seeing as how I was talking to a living piece of Camelot itself.

"Yes, yes… I've heard it all before. Let's see, what time is it? Fifteenth, no, Sixteenth century?"

"Um, well, it's worse than that, you see… I'm sorry to say it's the 1980's." I replied.

"What?! Oh, for Crom's sake, I've slept in longer than I thought!" He mumbled and coughed some more, and a small black sea slug popped out of his mouth.

As politely as I could, I asked, "Um, so... how did you end up... this way?"

He wheezed, "Don't you know, son? I was beheaded in the great battle for the Cauldron of Annwfyn…"

"Hmm." I nodded.

He coughed, "…when the Knights of the Round Table went to get it back…"

"Hmm-hmm." I nodded some more.

He wheezed some more, "…from Dyrnwch the Giant…"

"Hmm." I nodded again.

He seemed to be getting upset, "…after he stole it from Queen Mab of Annwfn? Don't you know any of this?!" The story was clearly still painful for him to tell.

"Hmm-hmm." I replied, as the various stories of the Cauldron were starting to come together, "Of course I know all this, but please do continue."

There was a glint in his eye as he began to delve into the tale, "COUGH! COUGH! It was a quite a battle… knights versus giants, wizards versus warlocks! We had raided Dyrnwch's giant castle that went all the way up into the clouds, for he was a full-grown giant he was, and I had just snuck past his best guards and seized the Cauldron. But when we tried to leave, I was cowardly beheaded from behind... and my whole noggin fell into the cauldron before it was quickly pulled out and flung aside by the giant that done me in. But in that split second before, I had taken a tiny sip of the potion brewing inside that cursed cauldron! And as you can clearly see, my head, but unfortunately, not my body, has now stayed alive for nearly a thousand years… COUGH! But it's quite alright…" He gave a weak pained smile, "…every day I can feel I'm slowly dying… and I look forward to death… as a welcomed respite… from my tortured existence-COUGH! HACK! COUGH!"

He gasped and rasped, and I asked, "Oh, good… then? So… how much longer you think you got left?"

He grunted, and moaned loudly, "Not too much longer... just probably going to take another... thousand years or so, BLECH! COUGH! RETCH!"

"Oh, well… I'm terribly sorry to wake you from what seems like the world's longest death scene, but I was hoping you might be able to help me find the Cauldron of Dyrnwch, or Queen Mab, or Annwfyn... or whatever the bloody Cauldron that you had your head dunked in?" I demand to know.

Bran coughed some more, and spit up some red seaweed, "Drynwch… and his clan of giants… destroyed this place… Morgan Le Fay's glass palace, in order to find it."

"Did they kill her?" I asked, not remembering this from my O.W.L.'s, or if this part was left out of the official magical history books promoted by the Ministry.

"No, she escaped, and gave the Cauldron to Merlin himself to hide from the icy giants of the Old North." He said.

"Those terrible giants, they've no sense of decency." I said.

"Well, to be fair… Morgan Le Fay and Drynwch were originally betrothed to each other to unite the giant and human kingdoms, so he was obviously upset when she ran off."

I replied, "What? I had no idea it was so complicated."

"It always is... don't they teach you anything at Hogwarts anymore? I mean, that was how the Second Giant War was started... here I thought everyone knew that." Bran said indignantly, then coughed and gasped some more.

"Oh, yes, of course, the great Giant Wars... with witches and stuff, sure, yeah... so, anyways, skipping over all that boring old history stuff, where exactly is the Cauldron now?" I asked Bran, trying to get him back on track.

Bran coughed even longer now, for nearly a minute, he really was being quite dramatic about it, and I said, "You done now?"

He coughed a few more times for good measure, and then said, "Merlin… took the Cauldron and hid it… but I'm, unfortunately, not sure where it is now."

"Oh, I see..." I replied, disheartened, "You completely wasted my time, haven't you?"

"But I know... a way that can help you find it." He coughed some more and hacked up a small clam.

"Could you lead me to it? Are you trapped here? Is this some sort of curse?" I asked.

He laughed, "No, I requested to be sealed up in here! I wanted someplace quiet to spend my last days in peace... so, sorry, I cannot go with you." He sighed. He then coughed for well over a minute, frankly overdoing his part a little too much, and then he finally said, "Listen... closely... _whisper_... _whisper_."

"What? Are you saying something, it just sounds like you are saying, whisper-whisper."

He was even quieter now, "Closer... come closer... _whisper_."

"Enough already with the whispering!" I said and leaned in as closely as I could to listen to his fading voice.

He whispered closely in my face, "Listen... there is... a way... HACK! COUGH! BLECH!"

I jumped away and wiped my face with my handkerchief. Finally, in a normal tone, Bran said, "Morgan Le Fay's Lantern resides somewhere here in the dungeon of this castle, if you can find it, light a flame from its never-ending fire and it will lead you to the Cauldron. But do not take Le Fay's Lantern itself, for it is hexed that any unworthy man who carries it will be continue to be cursed even after you've gotten rid of it."

"Got it- hexed lantern. Anything else I should know?" I asked.

"Just watch your back, son, better men than you have tried and paid for their folly with their lives." Bran said solemnly.

I was busy checking my hair in my mirror and I looked at his reflection and said, "I'm sorry, were you still talking or-?"

Sir Kay flew around and hopped right next to Bran on his corroded armor. Bran looked sideways and he squinted, "You know I had one exactly like this when I was First-Year heading off to Hogwarts, nearly a millennium ago."

"You don't say..." I replied, fluffing the last of my perfect coif.

"I can't remember the name of him for the life of me." Bran sighed.

Turning back, I said, "Well, his name is Sir Kay."

"Sir Kay!" Bran said, "Ha, that was my bird's name! Used to drive Lancelot crazy, it did!"

The bird hopped around happily and flew around, and then landed and started pecking at a half-broken clam.

I asked Sir Kay, "Do you want to go with me?"

Sir Kay said, "Na-na!"

"Or do you want to stay here?" I gestured to Bran.

Sir Kay looked up and squawked, "Ha, Ya-ya!"

"Well then, I guess he'll be able to find food here, and who knows, maybe he'll enjoy being able to fly around, with no cage."

"Thank you, it'll be nice to have a little company…" Bran shut his eyes again and slowly fell asleep.

Sir Kay the white raven flew around the large throne room, landed on the shoulder of Bran's green glowing corroded suit of armor, and sat watching out for his knight. The bird was singing his haunting melody, peacefully lulling Bran to what might be his final sleep as he slowly and softly drifted away in the ruins of a that broken crystal castle. I would miss them both I thought, as I took one long last look at the forlorn last piece of long-lost Camelot in its dripping wet catacomb as it was preternaturally bathed in a nostalgic emerald-green twinkling twilight, and receded into the darkness of laurels past.

"How wonderful…" I said to myself, "…now the fate of jolly old England is all up to me!"


	10. Ch 9- Morgan Le Fay's Lantern

Chapter 9-

Morgan Le Fay's Lantern

"Luminous," I whispered as I made my way down a dark spiraling staircase, and my wand emitted a small glow, not enough to see the whole way mind you, but just enough to see the next few steps (which is the most important part). Each step reverberated and echoed as I descended further down the spiral, and I thought about the legend of Le Fay's Lantern and remembered how it supposedly burned with a supernatural flame, and that some people believe the flame came from one of Hecate's torches, and considering what I've learned about Nudd, Death-Eaters, slyphs, faires, giants, and Camelot are all connected to this cauldron, I started to get slightly worried.

I wondered, " Could I even walk away at this point? And what would happen to Sabrina? Or Nudd? Or the Ministry if this mythical cauldron were to fall into the wrong hands?"

Despite my growing fears gnawing at me, I kept descended further into the downward spiral and after much longer than I thought I would have to descend, I finally reached the end. At the bottom, it was much cooler and the air was different somehow, denser, and as I walked through a crumbled portico, there was a heavy rotten smell of death and decay that permeated the chamber.

I crawled under a crumbled wooden doorway into an enormous open-floored dungeon at least three-stories high, roughly about the size of the dining hall at Hogwarts. I could see a strange blue flickering light from one of the cells at the end, so I walked towards it and slowly passed all the separate huge cages and gigantic prison cells. As I neared the strange twinkling glow, I walked past a row of humungous cells filled with the scattered bones of giant skeletons. I carefully approached the last cell and noticed it was cooler, since my soggy clothes were giving me a little bit of a chill. As my breath began to turn to mist in the air, I stepped towards the cell and I looked inside it's rusted and broken iron bars.

At first it looked like maybe a trick of the eye, or a Will O'Wisp, but as I stepped closer what I originally thought was light reflecting off the water, was actually the light itself. For inside the cell, hung a simple steel lantern containing a fire that glowed- not with the normal orange, yellow, and red, but with a swirling blue, purple, and greenish-white flame.

I stuck out my hand to feel the fire's heat, but it wasn't hot, it was icy-cold and I saw that there was barely any smoke, it was more like a fine mist that drifted out, down, and dissipated into thin air.

I tried to think of any stories involving a lantern of ice but I was drawing a blank, then, for some strange reason I was able to remember Professor McGonagall droning on- and-on about how, supposedly, Hecate carried one torch made of regular fire in her right hand, but, legend had it, that the other torch she carried burned with a _cold flame_ , an icy-blue flame from the land of Ultima Thule (I'm just going to go out on a limb here and guess you aren't completely as familiar with the land of Ultima Thule as I am, so I just tell you it's basically like an icy, Nordic Atlantis with fairies and giants and stuff, and although there are a lot of theories, nobody actually knows its exact location of course).

I searched around to take the flame, and I realized I hadn't packed any kindling, and the only wood I had was my wand, and I wasn't about to use that. So, I took out the coin purse, and I pulled out a series of stamps, coins, pills, lipstick, make-up, chapstick, band-aids and various other feminine hygiene products but, unfortunately, nothing to light a torch with for very long.

I picked up some soggy wood and tried to light it, but it didn't take the flame. I tried a few more times with various pieces of rotten wood, but they were all water-logged and rotten and didn't work either. So, I thought about my options and I wondered about the curse and Bran's warning. I decided that I'm not superstitious, and I don't believe in curses.

"I make my own fate!" I yelled out. I took a moment to think, "What's the worst thing that could possibly happen to me?" Then I thought about Sabrina and Nudd, and I realized I couldn't let them down, or make them pay the price for my folly, so I noble-y sacrificed myself for them.

"Here goes nothing." I reached out and grabbed Le Fay's Lantern.

I waited.

Nothing happened.

"Oh good!" I said.

I held my breath and walked out of the cell- Still nothing.

"Looks like today's your lucky day Gilderoy, old boy!" I replied to myself.

I kept walking back past the giant cells when suddenly, I heard a loud grinding and groaning sound, like a large stone was being moved or scraped across marble.

"Nothing to worry about!" I started to walk a little faster and then I heard a distant thump. At first I wasn't sure if it was my heart pounding or whatnot, but then I heard more pounding and banging, like some sort of demented Irish Bodhran drums. For some reason it reminded me of the night at Old Node Inn when I couldn't fall to sleep, and room next door kept blasting their infernal music. And much like then, the drums just keep getting louder and louder.

I wondered if this was part of the curse. I raced back up the dark spiraling staircase as fast I could, and heard a grunting and groaning noise echoing through the castle. As the pounding continued, I raced back past the throne room, through the chamber where the Lorelei layed (or is it lied?), and back past the large dining room. The whole time, the pounding kept getting louder and closer, and I could hear a loud roar that sounded almost like an elephant.

Then, silence...

A brief moment later the wall behind me was smashed into a pile of rocks and dust, as gigantic boar emerged through the hole and began to chase me down the hallway. The giant boar was easily ten- no, twenty –no, thirty feet high, with razor sharp scimitar-like tusks. It was covered in long tangled moldy black hair and I thought to myself as I ran, that this must have been the curse of Morgan Le Fay's Lantern that Bran warned would follow me. I guess Morgan Le Fay wasn't one to make empty threats.

I ran as fast as I could down the hallway while the giant beast destroyed everything in its path behind me, and I pulled out my coin purse and quickly shoved Le Fay's Lantern inside. I tried to put the coin purse in my pocket but accidentally dropped it.

"No!" I yelled, stopped and turned around to pick it up. As I swooped it up, I looked back to see the giant boar charging towards me, and I rolled aside at the last second before it could crush me, and I ran towards the entrance and into the domed-and-columned foyer with its circular reflecting pool that opened back up the Severn River.

I ran over to dive into the pool (not even thinking about the grindelows and bucca) and another loud roar echoed through the crystal castle. I glanced back and the giant boar was only a few feet behind me, and just as one of its giant tusks was about to impale me, I dove into the pool. Fortunately, all the grindelows and bucca were gone, so I swam as fast as I could away back through the tunnel, back towards the river. Swimming underwater, I didn't hear another splash, and so I looked back over my shoulder to see that the boar has stopped short of jumping in the water and was still stomping on the surface. I heard a distant roar from the boar, and I kept swimming back through the underwater tunnel and up towards the surface of the forked Severn Estuary. It was dark, but I was able to follow the last of my air bubbles up to the surface and I emerged, gasping for breath.

As I swam around looking for my dinghy, I hoped that maybe the boar just gave up and stayed underground, because I still didn't see or hear anything. Finally, I spotted the dinghy a little distance away, swam over to it, and climbed back in as I caught my breath. I quickly pulled up the small anchor, started paddling to shore, and fortunately there was still no sign of the giant boar.

"Whew..."

However, as I began to row to shore, what looked like a small wave or wake, started to rise behind me. I didn't think anything of it at first, but then I saw bubbles at the beginning of the wave and as I paddled, the wave swerved towards me. Then the wave's crest kept rising and the wave got bigger, and two tusks jutted out of the water. I started paddling furiously, but the wave-with-tusks kept gaining on me. By the time I was near to the river's edge, I heard a loud splash and the enormous boar was surfacing behind me. I rowed the boat up to the embankment as the boar charged straight towards me. I leapt out of the way, and the boar narrowly missed me, and stomped on and crushed the small wooden dinghy to splinters.

As it slowed down and turned around, I ran up the shore towards the boardwalk. I glanced over my shoulder and yelled, "Stupify!" at the giant boar. It was stunned for a second, but not enough to stop the giant lumbering beast.

I sprinted up the boardwalk as the boar chased me and smashed the wooden planks to pieces. Up on the street, the boar continued to charge at me several times, however, each time I'm just barely able to roll out of the way.

There were pedestrians mulling about the street, and so I yelled out, "There's no need to be alarmed… it's just a gigantic boar!"

The crowd of people screamed and ran in the opposite direction.

"Was it something I said?"

As the boar trampled over a small car, I noticed behind it that the river Severn was bubbling up in another spot near the shore. As I dodged another charge, and the boar smashed into a bus stop, I saw behind her, six grey piglets (or is it _boarlets_?) each about the size of a regular full-grown boar. They bubbled up out of the water, ran up the shore, and lined up behind, I going to assume, their Mother boar.

The giant boar let loose a loud roar and charged at me again. I jumped out of the way but fell to the ground and twisted my right ankle. Then the giant boar looked back to check on her piglets, grunted, and ran away down a side street narrowly avoiding a collision with a small truck.

I tried to get out of the way, but several of the smaller baby boars and trampled me as they chased after their Mother. I was lying there on the ground in pain, when one last piglet splashed up out of the River Severn. It was a runt, since it was definitely smaller than the others, almost like a normal sized boar.

I stood up and I aimed my wand to cast a spell on the shaggy boarlet as it looked at me, "Say goodnight, piggy!" I yelled into the night, "Adva-"


	11. Ch 10- The Forest Sauvage

Chapter 10-

The Forest Sauvage

"Adva… Adva…Alright, alright! I just can't do it." I lowered my wand and realized I could never cast the worst of the Unforgivable Curses. The silver-haired boarlet stopped and looked at me for a moment underneath all its knotted and matted hair. "Fine, just go! They went that way..." I yelled and pointed down the side street that looked like a tornado had torn through it. The giant baby boar grunted and ran to catch up with its mother.

I looked around at all the devastation from the battle- cars, benches, and trees were all smashed up, along with the sides of buildings. I tried to think of a repairing spell but I was too knackered to remember it at that moment, "Oh well..."

I dusted myself off, took out my coin purse, pulled out Le Fay's Lantern with surprising ease, and started heading back East. But after walking for a while, I noticed that the glowing blue flame had shifted and was shining brighter towards the Northwesterly direction, so I turned around and followed it up past Brain's Green and into the Forest of Dean.

It was the middle of the night, but fortunately I found another place to sleep at the Quartermass Inn, where I could get a bite to eat and rest my poor aching feet. The cozy little Bed-and-Breakfast was run by a pair of delightful old ladies, and I found my room's Victorian era décor just to my liking, none of that modern Edwardian trash for me, thank you very much!

Late in the morning, I woke up, got ready, and took out Le Fay's Lantern and walked around the room. The cold flame was still there, but it barely emitted any glow or light. I turned off the lamp and closed the curtain, but there still wasn't enough of the pale blue light being emitted to create a "guiding light" as it were.

I was disappointed- I would have to wait for nighttime in order to know where to exactly go. But upon seeing my reflection in a mirror that hung on a wall, I said to myself, "I know the flame was last burning towards to the Northwest, and since I am on foot and not really covering much ground, I'll just head that way, and see if I can find any clues, if by dusk I see that I've gone too far, I'll just turn around."

My reflection said, "Just brilliant, you are going to make a great reporter!"

I said, "I think I already am." And we both laughed.

After checking my hair one last time and making sure I didn't have any food stuck in my teeth, I headed off to investigate further and thought that I should have packed my broom, but I was already too far away now from home to Apperate back to my apartment in London and get it, for such distances leave one open to counter-spells, curses, and complications while you transport. So, I left my room without any means of transportation other than my tired feet, and went and paid my bill to the nice old ladies downstairs as an old rerun episode of _The Magic Roundabout_ (one of my favorite TV shows as a child) was playing in the background.

I headed outside into the cool crisp air and walked around throughout the day getting a general feel of the town, and asked around about Nudd, but none of the locals had seen him come through.

Later in the afternoon, I stopped for a bite to eat at a hole-in-the-wall north of town- The Kelpie Pub, and ordered boiled tomato soup and one of my personal favorites- Welsh Rarebit (otherwise known as _cheesy bread_ for you uncultured Americans!). I began to eat and then I almost spat out my tomato soup when Auror Will Self apparated across from me with a toothpick in his mouth.

"Enjoying your meal, West End?" He asked.

I said, "You again! I'm not going to be-"

"Save it," He barked, dragged a seat over, and lit up an elf-rolled Nicotinia cigarette- it smelled like a swamp on fire and I gagged on my stewed tomato a little bit.

"Could you _please_ smoke that somewhere else?" I asked politely.

He took a long slow drag from the cigarette, "No, I can't…" then exhaled a big billow of acrid yellow smoke over the table, and I retched in my mouth a little bit.

He had completely ruined my meal, so I pushed the red and muddy soup away and put down my spoon.

He grinned, "... because I can clearly see you are still looking for Nudd, even though I told you not to."

"What-what? Noooooo, I was just visiting my... dear... Aunt... Sally for the day."

"Yeah? Then why did you stay here last night instead of her place?" He asked, thinking he got me.

"There wasn't enough room, I'm afraid." I replied, "She has a tiny flat… that's actually being fumigated… and she's on vacation… so you can't talk to her now. "

"Hmmm, do you even know what town we are in right now?" He asked.

"Yes, of course. That's a stupid question. Ridiculous... like I wouldn't know what town my own dearly beloved Aunt Patty lives in?!" I said, looking around nonchalantly.

"Go on then, you dedicated follower of fashion, you." He said and took another drag.

"Why thank you, so... I don't see Auror Smith around, where's your partner this fine day?" I asked.

"Nice try, but I'll ask the questions- what town is it?"

"... it's um, you know, it's... Old... Berk...en...shire...ford." I replied.

He took a quick forceful drag, and then tossed his cigarette into the last of my tomato soup where it sizzled out with a loud hiss, "Lucky guess!"

"Ha!" I knew I was right all along.

He leaned over the table and got in my face again, "But your luck is about to run out soon!" and exhaled.

"COUGH! HACK COUGH-COUGH-" I kept coughing.

"Wah-wah-wah, with all your whinging, you sound like a little baby mandrake!" He leaned back in his chair, "Is that what you are? A little-baby-mandrake-man?

I informed him, "I'll have you know five out of six Witch-Doctors now believe Nicotinia smoking is bad for your health."

"Oi! You sound like my wife, for Godric's sake!" He took another cancerous drag of his cigarette.

I took a sip of my Swirl-Grey Tea and said, "Well, maybe you should listen to her."

He pounded his fist on the table, "Are you... talking to me... about my own wife?!" He asked through Nicotinia-stained teeth, no wonder he never smiled.

He leaned over again, "Maybe you should listen to me- and shut up and listen!"

"I should listen... shut up... and listen some more?" I asked making sure I had it down pat.  
"You sodding-blinkered prat! Do you really think the Ministry hasn't looked for Nudd? You really think you can find him, but that I couldn't, is that it?" He stared blankly.

"Um, yes... um, I mean no... no, I don't think that you _have not_ looked-"

He reached over the table and grabbed my collar, "Listen here! They killed my best friend and destroyed his wife's mind, so I'm warning you Fancy-Boy, for the last time- go home!"

He let go of my ruffled collar, and I took one last sip of my Tea, "Alright, I'll do it... but, hypothetically what if I can't? What if I didn't have a choice?"

He took a drag and squinted, "What a load of cobblers! What do you mean don't have a choice? Everybody's got a choice, don't they?"

"Well, what if... someone's in... danger? And I have to? Or more lives will be destroyed? Then to whom do I owe responsibility? You, or them?" I thought that sounded pretty good, and I made sure to quickly write it down in my journal later before I would forget it.

He squinted his icy-blue eyes even further (he was really good at squinting) and said, "I don't understand, like a hostage? Are you in over your head, Arnold Layne? Because, you see, that's exactly what happens when you start sticking your nose where it doesn't belong- things have a way of escalating!"

I tried telling him, "But, I didn't-"

He stood up, "I told you to stay out of it!"

"Yes.. never mind, you're right. I think a certain advice columnist is just going to go home and sleep in his own bed tonight." I said.

He nodded, "That's a good idea. You do that."

"Yep, he's going to just back to his own place of residence with all his own things and just enjoy the rest of his life." I replied and smiled at him.

He clenched his jaw slightly, "You are referring to yourself in third-person, right? Or are you talking about someone else? Because it sort-of implies that person might actually, in fact, _not_ be you."

"Oh yes, Gilderoy Lockhart always refers to himself in third-person!" I looked up at him, as he lit up another elf-rolled Nicotina cigarette.

He kept squinting, "Hmmm... chew on this friend- if I find out you're still searching for Nudd, I'm going to arrest you... for impeding an investigation!"

"But-but-but..." I stammered, trying to think of a response, but I could not.

He said, "I've got my eye on you..." and then just apperated away in mid-air.

"Whew..." I tried to take another sip of tea to calm myself, but there was none left, and the waitress had seemingly disappeared.

After that dreadful encounter, I left the restaurant to head back home and thought about quitting the case. I think I was even half-way convinced myself as I headed towards a nearby Knightbus Stop. But I just couldn't do it. It was like I was on a path that I couldn't stop traveling, even if I wanted to, at least not until the very end. I turned and looked at myself in a shop window, I saw my reflection and smiled, "What are you up to, Gilderoy, old boy?"

"I'm not sure…" For a moment the shadows and light played tricks on my face reflected in the glass and I almost didn't recognize myself.

I turned North back towards town and went and hid out in an old muggle bookstore for the rest of the afternoon. I sat in the back reading a boring, ponderous tome named _The Magic Mountian_ till dusk, but the story didn't seem very magical to me. Alas, Muggles certainly have a real strange misunderstanding of actual magic. I mean, for instance, in the book they repeated called Muggles- " _Nuggles"_. Maybe it's a Germanic thing, I don't know.

However, once the sun set, I purchased some maps and left the small musty bookstore as they were closing up. It was night now, so I snuck around the back of the shop where no one could see me, took out the lantern, and the glowing blue light continued to shine towards the Northwest. I said, "Lead the way, Blue Fairy!"

I kept traveling along the side streets in order to avoid Auror Self and I didn't see anybody following me, but my old Sixth-Sense kept tingling. I told myself, "Calm down, it's just a rat... hopefully not one of unusual size, however."

But the more I traveled through the town, the more I got the distinct feeling I was being watched. I hoped it was Aurors Self and Smith, but feared it was probably the Drama and Comedy Death-Eaters. Either way, whoever was lurking was not revealing themselves out in the open just quite yet.

I walked till I was almost out of town, and once again the morning star was rising with the dawn. With Le Fay's Lantern beginning to fade, I stopped at the Gilbert and Sullivan Inn, and signed in under an assumed name (I wish I could tell you what it is, I really do, but even I must have my secrets). I closed the curtains and slept without incident, and the next afternoon I checked out (Ok, fine, it's _Gideon Lionheart_. I could never keep a secret anyway, just don't tell anybody).

I was heading out into the countryside, and so I stopped into a small store and made sure to purchase some bread, a couple of apples, a small jar of jam, and a few bits of toffee. I was able to fit them all in the coin purse, so that way if I got hungry later and there were no pubs, I'd have a little food, and if need be, I could always use the Gemino spell to multiply the food, but unfortunately only for a couple of times, since food is, as all wizards know, one of the exceptions to Gant's Law.

In any case, I continued heading North-ish, and made good time as I traveled all night along the open fields and farm land, and eventually could see the Table Mountain, or Crug Hywel, to the west. By evening time, the trail merged with Offa's Dyke Path, and up towards the Unplottable Place of The Forest Sauvage.

The infamous Forest Sauvage, a most dangerous and treacherous place if there ever was one, is home to many known, and possibly unknown, fantastical beasts. The forest winds itself continuously up and around the country side, all way the to the tip of Scotland, where it stops near the Isle of Dread with its dreaded (sorry, couldn't help myself) Quitapeds. It even connects to the Forbidden Forest of my old alma mater, Hogwarts itself, and is also, of course, the mythical wooded location featured in many of England's greatest legends and stories of King Arthur, Robin Hood, The Fisher King, and one of the oldest stories of witches known throughout the world- the tale of Beauxwolf (known to Muggles as Beowulf, because their version is a English translation of an originally French tale that is set in England- strange, I know, given what natural enemies the British and French are now, but this wasn't always so, and at one point in the middle ages, the aristocracy in England were so closely intertwined they actually spoke French in court. Sorry. I'll try to keep Muggle history lessons to a minimum for I know how boring it can be) and I continued to travel North-West on the open road, past Shrewsbury towards the Cambrian Mountains. I hiked over a ridge of hills and along a small tributary of the Severn River, around Felt Mountain, and down into the rocky valley of Carn Cabal, with its magical giant dog prints in honor of King Arthur's valiant giant dog-The Hound Cabal, that was always by his side.

For a moment, it made me miss Sir Kay the white raven, and I wondered if maybe I should try to get a familiar again (It was the strangest thing, my owl flew away after I left Hogwarts). Maybe a peregrine falcon, or a perhaps a hawk?

I looked down at the giant paw prints stamped out in the ground where the rocks were pushed out of the way. I kicked around some stones, and picked up and tossed some as far as I could, but I knew it was pointless. For you see, even the local Muggles know that the very next day the giant paw prints of Carn Cabal will return, and will still be magically stamped into the ground again tomorrow morning. Although most Muggles believe that there's some other reason for it, like an elaborate hoax, we Witches and Wizards know that Merlin himself cast this spell in memory of King Arthur's dog after the hound protected him from, and defeated, the giant boar Twrch Trwyth, which had been sent by giants from the north to kill King Arthur when he was still but a young man.

With only the sounds of my crunching footsteps to keep me company, I traveled along the main dirt road next to the Forest Sauvage- the locals here refer to this shabby footpath as _The Kingsroad_ , which is a bit of a misnomer if you ask me, and walked until it eventually forked, with one path heading back over a tumulus towards Carn Cabal, and the other cutting a dense green tunnel of shifting shadows into the Forest Sauvage. At the entrance to the emerald shady lane there was a cairn maybe seven or eight feet high, next to a simple wooden sign that read–

Abandon all hope ye who enter here...

On the other side of the signpost, was a piece of old warn parchment of a faded, hand-painted map of the Forest Sauvage.

I scanned the picture that was a maze of different criss-crossing paths that looked like spag bol and down towards the bottom there was a red arrow and it said, "Ye are here."

"Great, this map is real helpful." I said.

It was late evening with an overcast sky, so I thought maybe there might be a chance- I took out the lantern and the light shone towards the Forest Sauvage, of course.

"I could have figured that one out on my own, Blue Fairy..."

As I walked towards the forest, a large black butterfly flew into the sunlight-dappled canopy, and I said, "Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and sorry I could not travel both and be one traveler, long I stood and looked down one as far as I could..."

I took a deep breath, and spoke out aloud, "I shall be telling this with a sigh, somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I took the one less traveled by..."

Stepping into the Forest Sauvage, I proclaimed, "... and that has made all the difference!"

As I walked further and further into the dark overgrown primeval forest, I hoped that the legendary Questing Beast from Arthurian lore wasn't still roaming these woods (and if it was, that it wasn't still hungry) and traveled for quite a while listening to all the strange bird calls echo in the forest. It began to get darker, and I began whistling, "Love is Blue" and picked up the pace. I thought, "Oh, if only someone could join me in my lonesome travels! Someone smart, pretty, and brave. Someone who could tell jokes and was interesting." But I digress, and how I detest to digress.

I traveled further into the dense wood, and saw giant spider webs that looked like great big fishing nets. I walked up to one and then a giant spider the size of a small car crawled down from the trees.

"Good evening, spider!" I exclaimed, since I wasn't afraid of spiders, "Would you like to be my familiar, and join me on my journey as my companion?"

The spider almost seemed to shrug and said, "Eh…" and then turned around and crawled away on its large legs.

"Well, okay then… Goodbye, spider!" I said, for I had half-wished to have a companion on the journey, and, honestly, had always wanted to ride a giant spider.

With disappointment setting in, the sky began to darken, and it started to rain so I cast an umbrella spell to protect myself, and at first it was just sprinkling, but then it was a cold sleet-like rain. I walked for a while, and eventually stopped beneath a large oak tree to get out of the rain.

I heard howling (like a wolf but different somehow, more guttural) in the forest but I tried to ignore it. I kept walking and my Dragon-Hide shoes were getting completely ruined again. I approached another large cairn, and there was a fairy ring of mushrooms all around the stacked stones. I walked up and could see there were some runes carved into the cairn. Strangely enough, they were similar to the runes at the Old Node Inn, with the same upside-down balloon rune that was carved under the bed.

A number of fairies appeared out of nowhere and started swirling around, and I noticed there was a Celtic knot arranged in smaller pebbles on the ground. A flock of owls, as well as crows, ravens, magpies, bluejays, and mockingbirds gathered above on the tree branches, were all singing and calling out.

Suddenly, they all went quiet.

Then a stick snapped behind me, and the fairies and birds all flew away. After a brief pause, I heard a loud roar (more like a were-wolf this time) and I ran away into the forest, and fell down a steep hill. When I got up, and looked into the forest, I realized I was completely lost. I tried finding my way back and climbed up the hillock, and I spotted an overgrown trail. I followed it, and it led to an old, dilapidated farm house next to a small lake.

"Oh, thank goodness." I said to myself.

I didn't see much activity at the house, so I snuck into the barn where I encountered a group of rather disagreeable farm animals.

There were all sorts of animals including pigs, cows, sheep, horses, a dog, ducks, chickens, a donkey, etc... I climbed on a pile of hay, took off my jacket, and tried to ignore the stench as best as I could. It wasn't the accommodations I was typically used to, but it was sure better than being out in the rain. I laid out my few belongings to dry, and some of the animals seemed to be watching me.

"Could I have a little privacy, please?" I said to a large black duck that was giving me the stink eye. A golden-haired donkey looked down at my things and began sniffing, drooling, and rooting through my clothes.

"Don't you dare eat my jacket, you good for nothing jackass! I'll have you know my grandfather was a muleskinner!"

The donkey ignored my warnings and tried to eat all of my belongings. It didn't matter whether it was my pants, jacket, coin purse, or handkerchief. He even tried to eat my notebook on Nudd Ludlow, with its newspaper clippings and wedding photo of Nudd and Ariel.

"Give me that, you blooming glump!" I yanked the notebook out of the donkey's mouth just before it could turn the papers to cud.

Then, as I finished changing into some dry clothes, I turned around to see, haloed by the moonlight, a young and beautiful witch with cracking green eyes and the shiniest blackest hair I've ever seen, with a beautiful red scarf wrapped around her neck.

I quickly finished belting my pants as she smiled, and said, "Hello, brave knight- would you care to spend your night in my nice warm home, rather than this stinky old barn? I've got hot vittles and fresh wine."

I laughed, "That sounds wonderful, oh kind and fair maiden!"

She said with a soft Gaelic lilt to her voice, "Please, call me Gwendolyn."

"How brill! A name fit for a princess!" I informed her.

"Is it? You're too kind." She smiled with mysterious twinkling eyes, took my hand, and led the way...


	12. Ch 11- The Lady of the Lake

Chapter 11-

The Lady of the Lake

As we warmed up by the fireplace, Gwendolyn asked with beguiling eyes, "Are you hungry, good Sir?" and flicked her wand at an empty wooden table that instantly bloomed with a scrummy-looking buffet of fresh baked breads, roasted pheasants, and all sorts of libations such as glasses of wine and goblets of mead like I was in the Land of Cockaigne itslef. I went to take a sip of wine, but then my Sixth-Sense went off. Clearly, she wouldn't have made all of this for herself, something... seemed off.

I eyed her suspiciously, "Smells delicious, how did you ever conjure all this food?"

"Why…" she paused, "...whatever do you mean?" she said buttering a piece of bread, and handed it to me with beguiling eyes.

I took the piece of bread- it felt soft, warm, and fresh in my hand, and smelled so good but then I remembered something from my first-year W.O.M.B.A.T.'s at Hogwarts, and replied, "I thought food… was one of the five exemptions to Gant's Laws of Elementary Transfigurations?"

She laughed, "Oh, that! Well, let me just tell you that... I… have… an arrangement with a pub just outside the forest in nearby Carn Cabal. I can order up some food if you will, and they put it on my bill!" she ripped off a piece of bread herself and went to take a bite, "What? You don't believe me?"

"Oh? No! Of course... silly me." I opened my mouth to take a bite.

She eyed me suspiciously, then took out a knife and smiled, " Oh, you're a smart one, aren't you?"

"Sorry, it's just I've had some odd run-ins lately." I said as she took the knife and buttered her bread some more.

"Oh, no, it's fine! I understand, I probably wouldn't trust me either." She laughed again, and popped the steaming piece of bread in her mouth, "The food could be cursed by Circe!"

She ate the bread and smiled. It must not have been poisoned, or cursed, and was safe to eat, so I took a big bite of the bread and it tasted delicious. I waited a tense moment and much to my relief nothing happened. I sat down at her dining table that had a green tablecloth with a large and intricate Celtic knot sewed into it, and said, "It's luvvly-jubbly, thank you so much!"

She smiled, "Don't you worry, it's not like I get much company out here in the wilderness."

She sat across from me and began eating and I stared at all the sumptuous food for I was starving. I wolfed down the delicious meal and drank her sweet dark wine as she promptly informed me that she was a widow who stayed here at her late husband's old farm, and I informed her who I was, and what I was doing out here in the forest.

I said, "I'm surprised you aren't familiar with my column, it's very popular."

She sighed, "Oh, the Daily Prophet doesn't deliver in the Forest Sauvage, very often."

"That's a shame, my column is huge with rustic folk." I said, and it was all very pleasant enough but as we continued to converse I began to feel very sleepy.

"You've heard of the Philosopher's Stone, I'm sure?" Gwendolyn asked.

"Well, of course, but what's that got to do with the cauldron?" I accidently dribbled a little bit of wine on myself, "Oops, sorry."

She politely looked away and said, "Well, the Philosopher's Stone was forged in the Cauldron of Dyrnwch. But that's just what the Britons called it, you see, for its original name was the Cauldron of Avalon, when Avalon used to be ruled by the giants who were, of course-"

"Really, really big?"

"No, you silly goose... Gaelic Fomorians, of course!"

"Oh, yes… of course…" Suddenly each eye-lid each weighed a ten-pounds and I felt a bit squiffy in the gullet.

"Yes, the giant Fomorians used to rule all of Albion. Then later, after king Arthur defeated them, they retreated to Ireland, Scotland, and Wales." She said with a wistful look.

"Did… they really now? How… fascinating-YAWN!" I was trying to pay attention, but I was having trouble following the plot. I was getting sleepier, my head kept drooping forward, and I kept spilling more wine on myself.

She didn't seem to mind however, and continued her tale, "Yes, the Fomorians are supposed to be from Ultima Thule, the land of Norse Myths themselves."

"You don't say? Like Odin, Thor, Hel, and all that..." I tried dabbing at the wine stain but it wasn't doing much to help, just spreading around the dark red splot.

She poured me another drink, "Not that the Britons would ever admit to it... the bloody fools!"

"No, we would not..." I tried laying out my napkin to cover the stain.

"But in a last ditch effort to unite the kingdoms, Dyrnwch proposed to Morgan Le Fay with King Arthur's permission and the Cauldron as the dowry. But then she had the gall to run off with Ogier the Dane!"

"No! Not Ogier the Dane!" I exclaimed. She paused for a moment and eyed me suspiciously, while under the table I pinched myself to keep me from falling asleep.

She gripped her wine glass tighly, "Yes, and most Fomorians believed it had been a trap all along and vowed never to trust a Briton again!"

I replied, "You seemed to be getting a bit bothered."

She paused and smiled, "Am… am I bothered?"

I said, "A little? Anyways… this is all very fascinating but... uh, any clues as to how that can lead me to where this supposed... cauldron of blah-blah-blah is now?"

She calmed down and took another sip, "Legend has it Merlin passed near here, and traveled North up through the Forest Sauvage, but that's the last anybody's ever heard about _The Undry_."

"The Un-dry?" I repeated.

She raised an eyebrow, "Yes, Dyrnwch dubbed it _The Undry_ , for it was never empty of food and drink for a brave-"

"Excuse me..." I felt quite lurgy and queasy, like my intestines were writhing snakes slithering around in my belly, and I tried standing up to get to the lavoratory as soon as possible. My wine glass fell and shattered on the ground, "Bloody... Wine... Gobbins! Glass... everywhere!'

She asked, "Are you alright, Gilderoy? Maybe the _wine_ was too much for you?"

She had tricked me!

I grabbed ahold of the table and pushed myself up, but my whole body felt like it was going to collapse right then and there, like the one time I had completely messed up my Sleepy Draught potion in Professor Snape's class and accidently passed out after inhaling a huge whiff.

"What... have... you... done to me!?" I said, the best as I could, but instead the words came out all slurred and sounded more like, "Beth... ydych... chi... wedi ei wneud i mi?"

She went to cast a spell, but I lurched out of the way at the last moment. She just barely missed, and the old cuckoo clock next to my head turned into a bird and flew away.

From my jacket pocket, I managed to wrestle my wand free and yelled, "Shlorp..." Which was rather unfortunate, because what I was actually trying to say was Stupify, but she quickly cast a spell and knocked my wand across the room.

"The question is Lockhart…" she said, as she walked around the table and raised her wand to her bottom lip like she was pondering a deep thought, "…are you more of a lover-" then she turned her wand and aimed it towards me, "Or a fighter?"

I said, "Rwy'n... nid yn hoff neu... ymladdwr!" which was the best I could muster at the time, as the words were bloated and strange in my mouth (like when you think bubble gum and cereal will go great together but then they don't). I tried pulling myself up off the ground by reaching up for the table, but instead I just yanked the table cloth down and all the dishes and glasses and food go with it, most of it on top on me.

She frowned, "Well, that's just what I was afraid of… some wizards promise a night of magic, but come midnight…"

I did try to get up and run away, but time seemed to slow down, and it felt like I was underwater.

As I finally stood up as she went to cast another spell and she howled, "They just turn into animals!"

I then tripped on the rug just in time for her to miss, and the chair next to me transformed into a pig. The fat porker went, "Squee!" trampled over me, and stepped on my groin.

I yelled, "Noooooo!"

She strolled over, "I know, it's sad but true, and now it's time to give in to me, Gilderoy! All the others did, it'll be so much easier!"

"Byth!" I yelled at her.

I reached out to her hallway table to pull myself up, but instead I accidently knocked it over. With a quick flick, she transformed a small vase into a plump rat that landed on my head and completely ruined my hair before running away.

She knocked my wand away as I laid on the floor helpless as haggis in the rain, and I could barely move I was so zonked out. She smiled, "Let's see… if Gilderoy Lockhart were an animal what kind would-"

We both heard a strange sound, paused and listened.

Silence.

Suddenly all at once, the animals from the barn came charging through the front door and attacked the witch. A goat bit her hand, and she dropped her wand, then a goose flew up, honked at her while the donkey backed up and kicked her with his hind legs, and she flew into the wall where she fell and passed out. I slowly crawled over, as the dog picked up my wand and brought it over.

I patted his head, "Thanks… but I could have used a little less slobber."

After a moments rest, I was slowly able to regain the use of my body and get up. The witch was still passed out, and I tied her up with "Relashio", although my speech was still a little slurred.

I looked at hog standing on the dining table while it was pigging out, and I said, "I'm neber drinkin' again for as log as I lib!"

Later, when the witch woke up, I asked, "Who are you really? Are you a Death-Eater?"

"I'm no common Death-Eater! I am a direct descendant of the Morgause... and I've lured scores of knights to their doom!" and she laughed.

"How long have you been here?" I looked at the red ribbon around her neck, from which hung a curious locket with an odd-looking rune.

She smiled, "Nearly seven hundred years!"

I shook my head, "How is that possible?"

"I once drank from the Cauldron itself, so that has allowed me to live much longer than normal... and there's the Forest Sauvage, of course." She looked out the window at the overgrowth.

"What do you mean... the forest?" I looked out the window as well but didn't see anything but the trees.

"You don't know? Time moves… differently in the Forest Sauvage."

"In what way?" I asked.

She grined wryly, "Some say there are paths in these woods where the knights of Camelot are still searching for the Questing Beast, only to be destroyed by what they seek. Funny, you remind me of them."

I inform her, "Well, I'm not like all the others."

"That has yet to be determined..." She replied ominously and laughed.

I couldn't bear to hear her infernal laughter so I stupefied her again (probably against Ministry guidelines but I wasn't yet familiar with official Auror practices, sorry), and searched around the house for clues that might lead me to the cauldron.

After looking around for a while I found at the bottom of the house, in a dark basement, there was a hidden trap door that led to a dungeon. I held up my wand to illuminate the dark chamber and stepped down on creaky wooden boards into the dank and cool darkness. Something about it reminded me of the dungeon in the Crystal Castle.

Out of the darkness, I could see three glowing red eyes staring back at me. I aimed my glowing wand into the shadows and saw one of the rarest Fantastical Beasts in the world that even Newt Scamander himself would be proud of my incredible find.

For inside a large gold cage was a full grown Chapalu, or Cath Palug, with its characteristic face and paws of a cat and body of horse all covered in smooth black fur. It also had three large red eyes, and large black feathery wings (Which makes me wonder if the Witch of Berkeley was riding a Ghost Chapalu, but with all the skull and fire and running, I didn't bother double-checking the physiology of the skull).

I held up my illuminated wand, and the large skinny beast growled, hissed and thrashed around in its golden shackles and chains (which is the only way to subdue a Chapalu). I could see where the shackles were digging into its flesh and felt bad for it. I was going to try to open the cage, but the large cat-like creature was pacing around the whole time like it would like nothing more than to have me for its dinner.

As a deep growl reverberated around the room, the three red eyes glowed in the darkness.

My throat felt particularly dry as I said, "Nice, kitty..."


	13. Ch 12- The Cath Palug

Chapter 12-

The Cath Palug

"Here, kitty-kitty-kitty," I said as I opened up the golden cage, and the large dark furry cat-like winged horse paced back and forth. It eyed me with vicious contempt, especially with its creepy third eye. I tried to calm it down and soothingly whispered, "It's alright Kitty... you can trust old Gilderoy."

It hissed back at me and narrowed its three diamond-shaped vertical pupils that looked a little like razor sharp daggers. Ok, a lot like daggers.

"Listen here Kitty, I'm your new Master now!" and I took a step towards the fantastical beast. It swiftly lunged at me and swiped at me with the largest feline paw I have ever seen.

"Aha, you missed!" I said and stepped back and looked down at the front of my shirt, vest, and jacket- the combo was completely shredded open where three large claw marks had rather miraculously just barely grazed my skin. Three trails of blood slowly tricked down the slashes (I still have the scars), but it was fortunately just superficial, for had I been a few inches closer I would have had my heart literally torn out of my chest.

"Well, alright then..." I slowly backed up a little further and thought maybe I should come up with another plan. The large flying cat/horse creature appeared rather emaciated, so I looked around its cage, but I didn't any food. I left the dungeon and went back upstairs and into the disheveled dining room, but something was missing- The witch was gone!

I looked around for a moment, but I didn't see any sign of her. Some of the barn animals were still helping themselves to the feast strewn across the table.

"Where'd she go?" I asked a large pink pig whose fat face was covered in orange cloudberry pie.

"Oink?" The pig replied, and then stuck its messy face back into the pie for some more. I waited for an ambush, but none came, and I said, "She must have ran away after I soundly defeated her!"

"Oink-oink!" The pig agreed. I grabbed some butter, a few of the pheasants, and headed back down to the dungeon.

I opened the gold cage door, and softly whispered, "Kitty-Kitty… shiny and bright, furry with the gift of flight. Oh! What immoral witch would try… to cage a feline that's meant to fly?"

The Cath Palug timidly crawled out from behind the gold bars and I tossed it some buttered-up pheasants and said, "It's alright… I promise I won't hurt you, you can come out now."

While the Chapalu ate the meal up in large gulps, I slowly undid its golden chains with a whispered- "ilrelashio" (which totally works, by the way).

The Ol' Cath Palug then started purring at me and nuzzled its head into my chest, almost knocking me over.

"Oh... um, you're welcome?" I said, as I slowly pet the Cath Palug's soft black fur, and it seemed to almost instantly become shinier.

I led the cat across the dungeon to the cellar doors and opened up the hatch. I flung open the doors and said, "It's alright now, you're free! Just make sure all your magical cat friends know that it was Gilderoy Lockhart who did it!"

The Cath Palug ran up to the opening, took one last look at me, and gave a soft meow that sounded a little like a horse's "neigh" (A "Ne-ow" if you will). It turned around, crouched down, and then leapt into the cloudy moonlit night. As it flew away, I could hear its wings beating, and it roared like a tyger as it sailed into the stormy sky.

A voice from behind seethed, "You will pay for that!"

I turned around to see the witch was back, but this time she was all old and hideous, and her neck wazzle was all long and wrinkly like a grandmother goose.

"Gross! This is what you actually look like, ugh!" I ran away in disgust.

She leapt at me with bony claw-like hands, "You are just like all the others! Now die! Die you dummy!"

I pleaded, "Please, if you could just stop being so, so, so... unattractive! Perhaps I could try to trust you again! Have you ever thought about a make-over?"

She cackled a wheezing laugh, "Looks can be deceiving!" and hopped on her broom and flew around.

"Egads, not that deceiving!" I said and kept running away.

The rain began to pick up again as we were launching spells at each other, and I ran into the farmhouse to try get some cover from her airborne attacks. I quickly climbed up into the rickety rafters as she circled around the barn, and she yelled, "Why so shy now Lockhart?"

When she finally she flew into barn, I shouted, "How's this for shy!"

I jumped on the back of her broom and she screeched, "You idiot! You'll kill us both!" as we hurled toward the ground. At the last possible moment, I jumped off the broom and swung to safety on a wooden beam while she landed face-first into a big pile of pig poop.

"Attack!" I commanded, and the rest of the farm animals charged. Not liking her odds, the witch quickly grabbed her broom and retreated back out of the barn. She flew in the thunder storm and yelled, "You're doomed! doomed like all the others before you!" and in a burst of lighting that came from the lake itself she was sucked down into the water with a great splash.

While little green sparks snaked through the air, an eerie mist rose from the top of the lake as concentric circles slowly rippled outward from the center. I debated whether to dive and chase her into the lake, but ultimately I decided that it was best not to be distracted on my own journey and that Nudd, whether he knew it or not, was counting on me where ever he was.

After packing some more food and provisions from the house, I started walking away from the farm but as I was walking, the flaxon-haired donkey from the barn trotted up and along-side of me and brayed pathetically.

"Here's the sticky widget, chum… the Forest Sauvage is no place for a donkey!" I exclaimed.

"Hee-Haw!" The donkey took a step.

"Look, I don't have time to just… faff around!" I assured him, and rest assured I meant it as I began to head north towards a small covered bridge. The stubborn donkey just kept following behind me, and I exclaimed, "This isn't some… pons asinorum!"

After we crossed the bridge, however, I said, "Alright, fine..." since he wasn't giving up, and my feet were developing big blisters from all the hiking in the Forest Sauvage. I climbed on top of the donkey, and first he seemed a bit uneasy, but then he began to pick up the pace and trotted up the ragged forest steps back to the main trail.

I patted the donkey, and said, "Hmmm, not bad, you may be useful after all." It was still sprinkling, so I fashioned my wand into an umbrella, and the donkey brayed and nodded.

After a little while of somewhat quiet traveling, I said, "What should I call you?"

"Hee-haw." He said.

"Hee-haw? No, how about Donkey?" I asked.

"Nee-Haw." The donkey brayed.

"No, too simple? How about we name you after famous donkeys? Let's see, there's um... well, there's got to be the uh... oh, how about... Donkey Kong? No, that doesn't make any sense..." The donkey just kept trotting, and I said, "Oh, what about Carrot, from the stories of Catweazle?"

The donkey looked up expectantly, and I said, "But... um, I don't actually have any carrots to give you, sorry."

He put his head back down and huffed. I said, "How about... oh, I know! What about... Bottom! You know, Bottom? From the classic Hathaway play, A Midsummer's Knightmare?"

The donkey shook his head, and spat, "Nee-haa-"

"Perfect... Bottom-the-Donkey, it is!"

The donkey shook his head, "Nee-haw!"

"No, I must insist its Bottom... and it's settled."

The donkey hacked up some green grem on the ground.

"I'll have you know I'm on a very important quest, and not even a common hedge knight should have to deal with such an indignant donkey for his steed. This adventure should be noble, and dignified, and-"

Bottom-the-Donkey passed wind.

"Well, I could just!" I said as I waffed the stink away.

After a long, gaseous day of hiking through the forest, we set up camp that night, and I slept on my cot in my little make-a-do tent (it's actually quite spacious on the inside) while the foul and stinky Bottom slept outside.

The next day, after a small but hearty breakfast, we travelled across a large expansive green field and over the large gorge in the earth known as Offa's Dyke, which separates Wales from England. We traveled along the wide and deep dirt path, all the way up to and through the green hills of Gwynedd, up around Cadair Idris. Although I had always considered myself a bit of a city boy, I had actually enjoyed camping in the countryside the night before, and was slowly falling in love with natural environment, the wilderness, and mother nature herself.

As we continued hiking, I looked out over the scenic vista and said to bottom, "It's quite lovely, isn't it?" and he nodded in agreement.

After some more wandering, we stopped for a small bite to eat at a small establishment by the name of The Crusty Dragon pub, and I had some delicious sweetbreads, which if you never had it, is not what you'd think it is- i.e. cinnamon buns, French toast, etc… No! Oh, yes, it's much better than that- it's actually what British people like to call boiled and stewed bodily organs, like liver, spleen, and gizzards cooked in their own blood and fat- like I said, mmm-hmm, delicious!

I tried conversing with some of the local folk, but I got the feeling that the Welsh are almost an entirely different creature entirely from the English, with their strange language, names, and alphabet. While traveling through Wales, it certainly makes it bloody horrible to navigate along rivers like Ystwyth, Waun Fawr, Aberystwyth and towns like Cwmbran, Ynyssddu, and, of course, the famous Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch, of which, I am honestly completely and totally not making up. This makes it nearly impossible to ask and/or receive directions, especially if you are not from there. Before I left the pub, I asked an old man, "Which way is Blaenau… Ffestiniog… from here?"

The local yokel just laughed at my pronunciation, and said, "No, it's Blae- _nau_ Ffesti _n-iog!"_

 _"_ Gesundheit!" I replied.

"Yeah, it's a real shibboleth, ain't it?" He smiled.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You know, a shibboleth." He said in his pastoral country Welsh accent.

"A Shibboleth?" I replied in my refined Bristol accent.

"Yeah… a shibboleth." He started puffing on some Nicotina in an old-fashioned shepards' pipe.

"Of course, a shibboleth." I repeated just to make sure.

Anyway, I got the feeling the locals didn't want to talk to me for some strange reason. Maybe the simple Welsh folk were befuddled by my Depeche-Mode sense of fashion and debonair city ways, or… maybe I just couldn't understand what they were saying, either way it was difficult to converse. But I kept traveling north and asked various people what I could about Nudd, but most didn't seem familiar with, or had ever even heard of him. At some point, I felt myself being watched, and I thought about the Slipher and Zwicky, but I calmly continued on my journey atop my slow-moving and sulfuric donkey. I searched around a bit more, but I was all the more impeded because Bottom would stop every couple of feet whenever I was asking about Nudd.

"Ludd?" An old man asked at a farmer's market.

I told him, "No, Ludd is a ridiculous name. It's… Nudd. Nudd!"

"Ludd Nudd-Nudd?" The old man asked.

"Nevermind…" I said as Bottom tried to eat the picture again. I yanked it back and held it up for some other people and asked, "Excuse me, has anybody seen this man?" But everyone we met just said no and shook their heads.

At the end of the day we stopped at the Frog and Whistle Inn, and I had a dinner of Bangers and Mash. I saved a few bits of sausage and brought some back to Bottom, and he gobbled them right up. I went to bed before sundown and slept well.

I checked out early while it was still dark out, so that there would be few hours till sunrise. I took out Le Fay's Lantern, and its light shined back along the dirt road headed Northwest, and so we followed it and travelled to and over a particular rickety wooden bridge. Every few steps the suspension bridge would sway, and Bottom would stop walking.

"Don't look down…" I smartly instructed him, "Or up… or around, actually just close your eyes, wait, squint… perfect!"

We traveled into some more dense woods where the trees somehow seemed even bigger than before, and we trekked for a little longer we saw a huge Dolmen with large vertical and horizontal monoliths that reminded me a bit of Stonehenge. The stones had various runes carved into the sides, with one that looked like an upside balloon, and one rock had a bit of latin scrawled on it that read- _circulus vitiosus,_ over and over again.

Le Fay's lantern had me walk around the Dolmen clockwise, then widdershins (counter-clockwise), and I walked around it and donkey followed me, but then the glowing blue light shifted and had me circumambulate around the Dolmen the other way, this time clockwise again.

"This is strange..." I said to the donkey, who just stared blankly. Then once I got back to the beginning, the lantern had me again walk back around widdershins again. I paused for a moment and remembered the poem of _Childe Rowland to the Dark Tower Came_ , but told myself that was just a silly fairy tale.

"This duff clump must be broken, mustn't it?" I yelled out and almost threw the lantern on the ground. I restrained myself however and continued to follow the path the lantern laid out before me once more around the Dolmens, and I repeated this three more times.

I yelled at the lantern, "Enough of this Crom-danged… dancing with Dolmens!"

I was just about to give up when Le Fay's lantern finally changed course, and I followed it through the Dolmen underneath the Northwest lintel that had been carved with the upside-down balloon rune. I stopped and took a moment to make a drawing of this runic symbol that kept showing up, but wasn't familiar in itself. It had been a while since I studied rune translations, but it looked a little like Sowulo and Ingwaz mixed together. I put my notebook away and walked underneath the lintel. However, this time thankfully the lantern just faced Northwest again, and I was relieved I was done circling these stupid stones, which I assumed served no purpose whatsoever.

"Come on, Bottom, hoof it!" I yelled out and hopped on, as a murder of crows cawed and circled above. He and I trotted across another old rotten wooden bridge, Bottom kept stopping again and as the wooden suspension bridge began to sway, and I noticed I was starting to second guess myself, or was I?

Either way, it was a good thing Bottom couldn't read the faded, hand-painted wooden sign at the end of the bridge. otherwise he might have never taken another step into the tangled and fetid swamp ahead.

For had he been able to, he would have read-

Ye are now entering the

Slough of Despond.

Enjoy your stay...


	14. Ch 13- The Slough of Despond

Chapter 13-

The Slough of Despond

I took a large deep breath of fresh air. It was going to be my last one for a while, for this was the worst part of the Forest Sauvage to have to had wandered into - a veritable swamp of despair that is infamous across the Witching World for destroying the most intrepid heroes throughout magical British history. But I, however, just continued to nonchalantly walk ahead towards the rotting stench, and uttered, "Absit Omen!"

"That should do the trick…" I said and pulled on the donkey's rope to lead him, but he just stood there, slack-jawed.

"Why the long face, Bottom? Come on... chop-chop!" I commanded the stubborn jackass to move, but it just stood there all insolent-like and I turned back around to face the slough. Stretched as far as I could see, the fervid swamp was filled with the remains of long-dead petrified trees and blackened branches that looked like burned and shriveled mangled limbs silhouetted against the last of the moonlight futilely clawing and scratching at distant stars for any bit of help before death took ahold of them. A thick grey-green mist hung over everything like a shroud and it had a nauseating sickeningly-sweet aroma, like rotten eggs mixed with spoiled candy leftover from an Easter Egg hunt that had been rained out. I tried yanking on the donkey to pull him along, but Bottom wouldn't budge.

"So help me Bottom, I'll curse you good!"

Finally, he started moving slowly, one hoof in front of the other. Each step resounded with a loud "glub" as I pulled Bottom along. But as I continued walking further I started to question myself once again, which is rather unusual for me. I wondered what was I even doing out here? Surely there must be some other way around? I looked around at Le Fay's Latern's watery glow, but unfortunately it was leading me right through the center of the Slough.

"For Azlan's Sake..." I trudged further and further into the mucky-muck, and I waded through where there was about a foot or two of blackish foul smelling-water, but fortunately there were dry patches and/or rotten logs that I to could step up onto. However a little further, the slough became deeper and there were fewer and fewer dry patches along which I could step, and after that point, I began walking into the slimiest, ickiest, stickiest mud. Oddly enough, the mud had an extremely high red clay content - it literally looked like, dare I say it – _Blood mud_? I tried to laugh at the coincidence and put the connection out of my head as the dark pools of blood mud would seep out from where my foot had been, and an awful stench would come bubbling up.

"By Jove, it's awful!" I said to Bottom, but strangely for having such a large nose, he didn't seem to mind. I lamented my ruined silk and velour orange bespoke suit, and we kept going further until the blood mud was up to our knees, and every time I took another step there was a loud "shlurping" sound. It was like each foot was a concrete block as I retched a little in my mouth, and I never thought I'd say it, but I missed the Flobberworm aftertaste.

"Fudgin' fiddle-sticks, this is hopeless!" I yelled out and Bottom just stood there.

We kept wading further and further while a dark cloud of huge vampire bats swirled overhead, piercing the night with their high-pitched shrieking. Each step I took, the muck got higher and higher till the swamp water was up to my waist then chest, and Bottom was up to his neck in it as well.

I started worried we weren't going to make it out of here, that it was all my fault, that I was going to fail. It felt like we were traveling forever in the darkness, and it now seemed pitch black out, which was weird because I would have thought we would have seen more stars out in the sky. I realized no moonlight was entering the Slough, and that the only light on my journey was being emitted from the blue lantern, and that it only illuminated a few feet in one direction at a time, with no real indication of what lies beyond my next couple of steps.

So, I continued. One slow lugubrious step after the other.

"Hello?" I called out, not really expecting an answer, but more just wanting to hear the sound of my own voice. It sounded… odd, flat, muffled-like, with none of its usual nuanced and sonorous overtones. I put my hand on the donkey, just to assure him I was close. We kept traveling through the mud and muck and it became very quiet.

That's right- too quiet! And as every schoolchild knows, quiet always means bad. I thought I felt something slither through the water. I yelled, "It's alright, Bottom! Nothing to be afraid of here, nothing at all!"

We kept trekking across the bloody blood mud swamp and each step became much harder than the last, and each moment took longer and longer, and each foot weighed nearly a tonne, at least. After stopping to regain my strength, I eventually summoned up the courage to take a step again and then another one. But then to keep my balance in the wobbly blood mud, I would have to take one step back. This went on for hours- two steps forward, one step back.

The whole time I had to pull and prod Bottom along as well, dragging him every step of the way. "Stupid Bottom, you better not pull an Artax!"

"Just a little further now..." I would say, even though I had no idea how much longer it would actually take. I pulled Bottom along and eventually found my footing. I kept walking and finally stepped up on some dry land again. The moonlight seemed to come back a little and I began to hear chittering bugs again.

"Hip-hip hooray! We made it, Bottom!" I said and helped the donkey climb up onto a semi-dry patch of land, "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"Nee-haw…" Bottom replied, and I almost thought I saw tiny tears of joy well up in his dumb donkey eyes. But it was dark, so who knows?

We were feeling pretty elated when we got to the end of the slough, but then I saw that there was another Dolmen that looked very similar to the one at the entrance, and beyond that there was another rickety wooden bridge like the one from before with an identical hand-painted sign that read-

Ye are now entering the

Slough of Despond.

Enjoy your stay...

"Blast-Ended Skwerts!" I exclaimed, "How can that be?!"

I looked back where we came from, and it looked just like where we had been, but when I turned back around to go forward, it was completely not the end at all.

"I don't understand." I said to Bottom.

I tried turning back around but Le Fay's lantern kept shining back towards the other direction, "This stupid thing is broken. Now I know it for sure!"

I threw the lantern down, and it rolled away into some muck.

"I don't need you, you... bloody boffing lantern! I'm sure I can find my way on my own." I said and turned around to walk back out of the slough, but then I realized there was no indication of which direction to go, for in the darkness both forwards and backwards appeared the same.

For a brief moment, I thought about Nudd and Sabrina counting on me, but I didn't care anymore and just wanted to go home. I took a step away from the Dolmen and back into the slough from which we had just emerged, but Bottom bit onto my jacket and held me firm.

"Let go of my coat, you dumb beast!" I insisted, but he wouldn't budge. I tried yanking on the rope but he still wouldn't move, "You really are rather stubborn, has anybody ever told you that?"

I kept yanking, but Bottom still wouldn't move from his spot.

"Oh, alright you little..." I turned back around to look for Le Fay's Lantern. However, even though I had only turned my back for a second, it had suddenly vanished. I looked around, but it was nowhere to be found, "What?" I said, and looked at Bottom, "Where did it go?"

Bottom looked confused, and let go of my coat, I yelled, "You were supposed to be watching it!"

Bottom looked around, and then back at me, "Hee-haw?"

Even though I knew he had kept me from quitting my quest and possibly kept me from getting lost in the filthy mire from which I had just left, I kept getting angrier and angrier, like the slough had some dark power over me. I was tired, frustrated, and exhausted, and now I was lost and scared as well. I'll also be the first to admit that it certainly wasn't my finest moment when I picked up a large stick and said, "This is all your fault! Now I'm going to beat some sense into you, you... you... you stupid jackass!"

I stepped forward to hit Bottom, "Come here!" but at the last moment Bottom turned around and kicked me right in the gut. I went flying backwards into some stinky mud with a shlurpy-shlop.

I was covered in gunk, and it felt like a rib may have been cracked. I slowly stood up in the muck, and yelled, "Ugh, you... are going... to pay for that!"

I tried lunging towards the donkey, but something caught my foot, because I tripped on the ground and landed face first into some more muckity-muck.

I stood up and was dripping with foul methane-smelling slime and goop, "This is definitely not all tickety-boo!"

I was about to beat Bottom with my stick, when I saw a light blue glow just a few feet away from where I had thrown the lantern down in frustration.

"Look, Bottom! There it is! The lantern-"

But when I got up and walked towards it, the glow disappeared.

"That's... strange." When I inspected where it was, the light was gone.

I said to Bottom, "Where'd it go?"

I looked down and searched where I thought it had been, but I couldn't find it. But then a few feet over to the left, I see another faint blue glow.

"Look! There it is now." I called but Bottom just stayed where he was and started rooting around in the muck.

I started walking towards the faint blue glow, but then it disappeared and reappeared further away. I aimed my wand and yelled out, "Accio lantern!" but nothing happened. I had heard stories of even powerful witches magic not working properly in the Slough of Despond, but I didn't realize it was true until this moment.

I tried another spell, "Aquarios!" but no water shot, out just a couple of drops.

I tried a different spell, then another and another, each time, the magic would slowly fade.

"No, sod it!" I yelled out, and I noticed that even the light from my wand was starting to go dim as the darkness closed in around me.

I looked around and saw the faint blue glow again. It was still nearby, but every time it disappeared, it would re-appear slightly further away, and the light would be dimmer and fainter. I chased after it as Bottom brayed out to me, but I kept going further and further away from Bottom and the stupid signpost, but no matter how fast I ran towards it, the blue light would always recede further and further away.

"Wait just a minute…" I stopped for a moment, looked around, and saw a rotted piece of wood. I picked it up and waited till I saw the faint blue glow again. I hurled the soggy branch towards the light and it hit it with a wet thud. I ran over to where the light had been and saw an odd-looking Wiz-tactular Creature all plonkered out.

"Blimey! Take a butchers, Bottom! It's a real Will O'Wisp, it is!"

I picked up the odd glowing blue tree fairy. It reminded me of a muggle's Troll toy I had a child, which, strangely enough, looked nothing like an actual troll.

I looked around for Bottom as my wand's light continued to dim ever fainter.

"Hello! Is anybody out there?" I called out.

But there was no reply this time.

Slowly the last of my wand's light faded and the wand was nearly no more than a useless stick. No light emitted from it, and no spells could be cast no matter how hard I tried. I called out for Bottom but there was still no answer. I stumbled around in the darkness and stomped further into the sploshy void.

Eventually, I saw something in the darkness and heard a voice. It sounded familiar yet different, like hearing a recording of yourself that you don't quite completely recognize. I walked closer to the sound and I could see a large grey stone block Dolmen. I stepped towards it and looked inside the small cave-like structure. Inside there was a faint light. but once I took a step inside, a tunnel filled with fog opened up.

"Hello?" I called out again.

I walked towards the light at the end of the foggy tunnel and I turned around a corner into a hallway of some sort. It now looked like an old-fashioned hospital. I walked down the hallway and there were words scrawled on the walls in what I hoped was red paint- _NULLA DIES UMQUAM MEMORI VOS EXIMET AEVO_.

I walked over to the waiting room and I began to recognize the layout from a field-trip. But where to, I couldn't remember. I slowly walked over a pair of double-doors, and on the wall, I could see a plaque commemorating the Janus Thickey Ward at St. Mungo's for all their hard work.

 _That's where I was- St. Mungo's!_

"How, how did I wind up here?" I uncontrollably whispered to myself like they do in movies as I walked through the double-doors to the waiting room inside, but nobody reacted, and various old people just sat there staring into space or mulling about. I couldn't figure out if they were unable to see me, or if they could and they were just crazy.

It's then that I saw, at the end of the waiting room off in a corner, there was someone who looked so familiar, like they could have been my father with long grey hair and a long grey beard. Nearby, there were also a group of people walking up to see their loved ones during visiting hours. I saw a couple in the waiting area that looked like they could be Nudd and Ariel but they looked old and tired.

A skinny teenage boy, who looked like he could be Nudd and Ariel's son, was dressed in a Hogwarts uniform and wearing Griffyndor colors but was unusually awkward, even for a Griffyndor. He walked up to Nudd and Ariel and gave them a little cake, and although they smiled and thanked him, they didn't seem to recognize him. He smiled and hugged them anyway and walked away with someone that must have been his Grandmother, who looked like she was probably Ariel's mother.

"But Ariel and Nudd don't have any children… right? Right?!" I said, but nobody answered.

All the rest of the patients had visitors who were family, friends, and loved ones. All except the old man left there alone. No one stopped by or even talked to him. He just sat there, scrawling unintelligible words on old yellowed sheets of parchment, mumbling to himself.

It looked like he was trying to write his name, but the autograph kept coming out all messed up. Some of the letters were switched, upside-down, and/or backwards. A nurse walked over, and checked on the grisly old man, and she said, "Hello, how are you today, Gilderoy?"

" _Gilderoy?"_ That couldn't be right I thought, and the old man started shouting, "Cygnus inter anates! Cygnus inter anates! Cygnus inter anates!"

There was something familiar about the nurse as she tried to calm him down and started softly singing, "London bridge is falling down…" to calm the frantic old man.

I remembered my mother singing that lullaby and I realized that the head nurse reminded me of my mother, but when she was younger. I looked around the room and all the faces seemed familiar, somehow, in some way, but it was like they were all in disguise.

 _This can't be right, Something's... wrong!_

"Get me out of here!" I yelled, and a group of three nurses whispered, "Mr. Lockhart. Please remain calm... Mr. Lockhart."

I'm was rather cheesed off, and I shouted out, "No, something's wrong! Something's very wrong, and I will not remain calm!"

The three nurses hushed, "It's alright... please, Mr. Lockhart... London bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down..."

I caught my reflection in a glass door and saw that I had somehow become the bearded grey-haired old man Gilderoy. Like some sort of dream, or more appropriately, a nightmare, I had gone from a detacted Third-Person perspective and become merged into the First-Person POV of the Old-Boy Gilderoy. At this point I had, of course, thought I was completely off my trolley.

"This... this isn't right! Is it?" I yelled at the smiling, singing nurses all powered starchy white.

The three kindly looking nurses walked closer to me, "It'll be alright, Lockhart. Everything's back to normal... you are here at St. Mungo's. We are your friends, promise."

I thought about it for a moment, then I yelled out, "No, kiss off!" and then I pulled out my wand-

"Ridiculous!" I yelled.

The nurse turned into the pink cow Ermitrude from my favorite British children's show the Magic Roundabout.

"Ridiculous! Ridiculous! Ridiculous!" I yelled as I blasted the walls, ceiling, and floor into more stuffed animals, for they were all Boggarts, like the infamous Old Boggle of Canterbury!

Which I should have known from the start, but I had heard they preferred small spaces in people's homes, not open fields or swamps. However, there were tales of old and giant wild boggarts from the days of yore that still roamed the wildernesses, but nobody had seen one in hundreds of years, so I didn't actually believe it.

As I cleared away the giant boggarts, I could immediately see more moon light, and my wand worked again. I wondered if Boggarts had the ability to nullify, counteract spells, and/or whatever else that the wizard is afraid of at that very moment.

I called out, "Bottom?! Are you there!"

"Hee-haw!" I heard off in the darkness and I stumbled over.

"There you are!" I said, while Bottom was busy eating some weeds or mushrooms or something. "I… missed you! I'm sorry for the way I acted." Bottom just stood there. "There's no need to apologize to me… mainly because you can't speak."

I gave him a nudge with my elbow. "Chivvy along, it's no time to be rooting about Bottom!" He bit into something in the muck with a loud clunk and pulled it up.

"What in Rowena's Diadem!" I said as a strange watery blue light glowed upon the donkey's face.

"Look Bottom, I found it!" I exclaimed as I walked over and picked it up.

"Fine… you helped a little." I searched around my coin purse and gave Bottom an apple. He ate it up, and we continued on our way till I saw another sign that read-

Ye are now entering the

Slough of Despond.

Enjoy your stay...

"Cor love a duck!"

I stumbled to my knees and sighed dejectedly, "This is impossible..." but Bottom just kept trodding along, and finally after wanting to give up nearly a hundred times, I just climbed up and sat on Bottom as he trudged his way through sludge. We traveled for what seemed like hours in the darkness, and we kept seeing the same sign over and over. It was like a loop, over and over again, a never-ending Ourboros of ennui.

But the strange thing is that after a few more appearances, the sign actually started to become sort of comforting, like a weird twisted landmark I could count on, and I no longer wanted to turn around when I saw it. It was the part traveling through the darkness that was the worst of it- that was when I started to doubt my mission, my quest, my job, my career, even my life.

 _Was I some sort of fraud? A charlatan? An imposter who has no idea what he is doing?_

I decided none of it mattered even if it were true (which it's not) and that I would fail miserably (which I wouldn't, of course). That I shouldn't have even tried in the first place. That it's all hopeless anyway. But... we kept traveling regardless, silly stupid Bottom and I, stuck together, as it were, and we kept seeing and passing that same old familiar sign.

 _Abandon all hope, ye who enter here..._

And you know what? The most unusual thing occured.

Faced with the absolute certainty that I would fail no matter what, I had a strange epiphany that if everything I did doesn't really matter in the end... then maybe it doesn't really matter what I do, just that I choose to do it.

 _If I am going to fail anyways, then what is it I really want to do? And how do I want to do it?_

I thought about it in the relative silence of the Slough and decided if I am going to fail and ruin everything, then I might as well do what I love while doing it. I thought to myself, "You know what Gilderoy, old boy? When you stop worrying about what's going to happen, this journey... isn't so bad. I mean, it could always be worse, right?"

Bottom passed more wind.

"I mean, right now, there's people starving, bleeding, dying all over the world, aren't they? And I'm just a little dirty and lost, that's not so bad is it?" The idea of so many other people suffering much than me put a little hop in my step.

"Just think, I could be some sort of dumb American- the poor shlubs! Or even worse… a filthy fat Floridian!"

Bottom nodded and trotted, and I suddenly had a completely different outlook on life. I looked around at the fetid foggy swamp, with the dead tree branches like bony arms reaching up in futility to the moon and now felt some company. I looked up and heard the bats and crows and wolves howl, and thought about the little bat babies, crow babies, and wolf cubs. I looked down at Bottom, and I pat his scratchy, dirty head.

"Oh, come on you!" We continued in silence for a little while and I listened to the frogs, insects, and other creatures buzz in the night, and together they made a weird nocturnal chorus. We eventually arrived in some sort of area with lots of pale white petrified logs and large white stones broken and crumbled everywhere that I did not recognize.

 _Were we in a new part of the slough?_

I tried not getting my hopes up too much and kept dragging Bottom till it felt like I couldn't pull any longer. It felt like days, weeks, or months. And not just some short month like February, but like a really long one like December... with an extra leap year Monday added to it. Finally, after what seemed like forever, I just gave up. I started thinking about how nice it was to swim at Lake Hogwart at the end of the school year just as summer was approaching. So, I laid down on my back in the mud to see what would happen if I did try to sink, and instead of sinking, strangely enough... I began to float.

I couldn't believe it!

It was practically like swimming, as long as I kept taking calm, deep breaths and just kept making Snow Angel (Slough Angel?) like movements, I would keep floating at the top of the water. I held onto Bottom's leash and as I pulled him along with me, I realized his legs hadn't been trudging along beneath the muck, but he had just been floating along the surface the whole time as well.

"Cor blimey!" I yelled, "I could have been doing this the whole time?!"

Bottom and I continued to float the rest of the way. At some point I almost forgot where I was and what I was actually doing, I looked up at the mangled and knobby empty branches in the misty moonlight and watched the clouds drift by. I thought this was a place of stagnation and death, but even here there were moments when I stopped worrying, that were actually kind of, dare I say, nice.

I took a deep breath and sighed into the night. "Oh well, once you get past the despair, this place... isn't so bad, I guess."

"Says you!" A voice called from the darkness and then a split-second later a large broken bone flew through the air, and I dodged it at the very last moment.

I picked up and inspected the two-foot long bone, and it seemed oddly proportioned, like it was too thick. "Excuse me? Is... somebody there? I demand that you reveal yourself!" I called out into the darkness,

"Oh yeah, well who died and made you king?!" The Irish voice called back out.

I turned around and in the faintest of moonlight I walked up to some sort of Dolmen, and when I got closer, I saw that the stones were getting bigger now, larger than me. The smooth white stones looked chipped and cracked, some had pieces missing and odd holes carved away. One looked like it was carved to look like a large skull, which took me a moment to recognize it, because it had three hollowed out eye sockets.

That's when I realized, and looked around, and saw I was literally in a giant bone yard. No, not like a really big boneyard. Literally- a _Giant's_ bone yard! There were also lots of knights' armor, Druid warlocks, and Roman soldiers rotting there as well in the muck and mud.

"What's your hurry? You got someplace to be?" Someone with an Italian accent called out, then the ghost of a British knight in rusted armor came gliding across the slough.

"Don't you pay him any mind!" A large voice boomed out and I looked around and then realized there was a pair of enormous ghost feet standing next to me. I looked up and saw a Scottish giant complete with a kilt, brandishing the largest sword I've ever seen.

"Ahh, put it away!" I yelled out.

"Yeah! Go back North where you belong, you dirty Frost-Licker!" A British knight yelled, then a whole haunt of ghosts came rising up from the slough.

A different knight with a French accent stood up from the muck, "Oh, you shut up! I'm tired of hearing all your same old boring stories!"

The rusted British knight yelled back, "Better than your one story of how you almost beheaded Sir Nicholas!" and all the other ghosts laughed at the gaunt Gaul ghost as he sunk back beneath the muck.

The rest of the ghosts continued yelling and arguing, and I looked around and saw they were all some sort of sorcerer, warlock, wizard, knight, or giant (both large and extra-large), and they all disagreed about who won which war. Until they finally agreed on who won, then they argued about what would have happened had somebody done something differently, and what should have happened, and then on and on they argued again.

The funny thing was, even soldiers who fought on the same side of the same war would have different memories of how things happened, different versions of the same story. They all argued on about the Vikings and the Druids, the Romans and Britons, Giants and the Britons, the Anglo and the Saxons, the Anglo-Saxons against Visigoths, Vortigern versus Ulther Pendragon, and on and on and on, and around again.

They'd argue about who'd fault each war was, about why this war and that war should or shouldn't have happened, and then they would start arguing even more until fighting broke out, but they were ghosts, so they couldn't actually do any harm to each other. Eventually, they would tire themselves out and agree that the fighting was pointless and would settle down for a while.

But inevitably they would start arguing about who was to really blame and then the whole cycle would begin again. It was like they were cursed to only live in the past, even though it had already destroyed them long ago. Now they were no more than ghosts fighting a pointless war with each other for eternity, locked in combat with no end, for no reason. Who knows? Maybe there was a point to all their fighting in the beginning, however, if there was, it was forgotten along with all the pertinent details of each and every battle that once took place long ago, along with any lesson or moral gleamed.

I tried asking about Nudd and the cauldron, but there was no real leads and the arguments would just all start up again. Eventually, Bottom and I slowly crawled away from the fighting Giant and Knight ghost-yard.

However, about halfway, a voice called out, "Wait!"

The ghost of a knight in black armor floated over to us and told us, "Long ago, I was a knight of the Round Table, and I was sent on a mission to find the Cauldron too… but I failed after I sought revenge on the giant who killed my father. However, it's good luck that you are here now, because, you see, in the midst of despair, hope can still be found."

I looked around at all the rotting, moaning decay, "Oh yeah, good luck here for sure. I can definitely see it."

The knight floated closer and whispered in my ear, "There is special key that can unlock the door where Cauldron is kept. I don't know where the Cauldron is however, just that my key can help enter the secret chamber where it is held, for it was entrusted to the Round Table to protect it."

He pointed down into the muck, "Reach down and you will find my skeleton, and beneath my armor, around my neck is a key from King Arthur himself- take it."

"You want me to dig down in there?" I asked incredulously.

"Yes, your quest depends on it." The glowing transparent black knight said.

I took a deep breath and reached down into the muck. I stuck my head under the goop and dug beneath the retched gunk, and a disgusting gushing geyser of rancid blood mud rushed up and made me retch in my mouth. I held my breath and dug further, and under about a foot of blood mud I felt something hard. I grabbed ahold and pulled up the rotting decaying arm of the black knight's corpse. I yanked up the rest of the skeleton still in its rusted armor, and the top half of the body came up with a shlurp. I cracked open the chest-plate armor like a broiled globster shell.

"There..." The ghost said and pointed down.

I saw a silver necklace with a key at the end. I tried lifting the necklace but it was hung up on something, so I jerked on it and the black knight's skull broke off and fell into the muck.

"Oh, um... sorry." I replied.

He smiled, "Doesn't matter to me... I'm already dead."

"...fair enough," I said, and inspected a golden key. The shape was a profile of a dragon's head, and the fire of the dragon's mouth was the teeth of the key.

I said, "Thank you for your help."

He started to glow fainter and I wondered if the morning star might be rising, and he told me, "I hope you find your friend, and please learn from my mistakes. I was consumed by vengeance and I died for it, when all along I really should have continued on my quest."

I had a look at all the phantoms' futile fighting, "I understand... but Nudd's not really my friend-"

I turned back around to say goodbye to the black knight, but he was already gone.

"Black knight? Hello? Where'd he go?" Bottom looked around as well, but there was no trace of the ghost.

I placed the dragon's head key into my magical coin purse and continued on my way. We crawled through a giant's empty ribcage as a phantasmagorical battle picked up and rained all around us.

We swam away, however, and after a while the voices faded away. Truthfully, I no longer cared if I saw another Slough of Despond sign again, because I figured it was better than staying in that boneyard listening to ghosts drone on-and-on like they were being interviewed by Melvin Bragg himself. Eventually the bloody-muddy water became more and more scarce, and we were finally able to stand up again. We walked onto solid ground, and after stomping in mud all night, each step felt easy and light like I was walking on air. I tested out my wand and it was working fine. Sparks shot out everywhere. "Look Bottom, Magic!"

It was then I saw the dolmen, bridge, and wooden sign again, and at first my heart sank, but then I realized it didn't bother me as much anymore.

However, as I got ever closer, I saw that this time the words read-

Ye are now leaving the

Slough of Despond.

Come back soon!

It was only then I wondered, "Had it been the same stupid sign over and over the whole time because the trail kept circling back? Or was it really different signs at different stations, to discourage those who were truly unworthy?"

Or both? Or neither? Or was it really a clue to keep going all along... who knows? Magic sure is crazy! Anyway, as I wondered these disturbing thoughts, Bottom and I stepped out of that primordial sludge and headed back into the forest to join the main trail again. We had finally made it out of that wretched and horrible place and it felt so good, wonderful, actually, _magical_ even. Who knew returning to the "real world" could feel so great? I felt as if I was floating inches off the ground.

"We did it Bottom, or well, more correctly... I did it, Bottom!" I informed the Donkey.

We scrambled up the path back onto the Kingsroad and continued along the Forest Sauvage. Despite my ordeal, I was feeling pretty well chuffed to have made it out. However, sometimes even now, I still turn a corner and half-expect to see that stupid entrance sign again. But you know what? I'd actually be all right with it, because I would at least know I hadn't given up yet, and wasn't sitting around complaining, arguing, and criticizing everything like those old forgotten ghosts still trapped in Slough of Despond, instead of, you know, actually doing something about it.

It had been a long hard slog, but I was at least traveling along on my own journey, whether it seemed like I was making any progress whatsoever…

...or not.


	15. Ch 14- The Sea of Angles

Chapter 14-

The Sea of Angles

Bottom and I kept heading northwest and by the next sunrise we stopped just outside the rustic town of Bryncrug, and I got a tiny damp and (yet somehow) dusty room at the Auld World's Inn. By this point I was starting to get used to the traveling routine, but unfortunately, I was also starting to run out of money for I only had a few bronze Knuts left. The bed was uncomfortable, but after having previously escaped the Slough of Despond, I slept some of the best sleep ever all that next day, while Bottom slept in an old barn out back as usual. It was dusk when I woke up, got dressed, and took out Le Fay's Lantern again. As I peered into the cold blue swirling flame, I began to worry it might be misleading me.

But if it was- where was it taking me?

Bottom and I headed out of the slip-shod inn as "Eminence Front" played on the radio, and we hoofed it all the way through the serene spring countryside and pass the small town of Scarfolk, which was just uneventful farmland with a few scatterings of barns and windmills. Bottom and I looked out across the foggy moonlit moors, and I said, "It's beautiful and idyllic... yes, but boring nevertheless."

Bottom nodded in agreement and I replied, "Unfortunately, though, and more importantly, there's still no sign of Nudd however."

I waited for a reply from Bottom and when none came, I took it as a bad sign I was talking to farm animals and then for the rest of the way we traveled in silence.

And by _silence_ , I mean I played my pan flute and sang sea shanties while I rode atop of Bottom till the following morn's rising star when we arrived in "Yr Hen Ogledd" or the "Old North". Late at night I set up camp and said to Bottom, "You know, you really need to start pulling your weight around here once in a while…" and Bottom just brayed in that lazy donkey way of his so I couldn't stay angry, and I ruffled his mane and gave him an apple.

In the darkness of the forest I sparked up a small campfire and boiled a pot of Narnian blood-orange blossom tea with just a drop of Mad Honey. Oh, sure you can heat up a cup with a magic spell, but if you ask me- it just doesn't quite taste the same and always seems to cool off rather quickly. I watched the fireflies sparkle and swirl around us as I sipped my tea and wondered, "When was the last time I was this content among the hustle and bustle of the daily rat race?" I couldn't really remember, and later as I played my pan flute to make the campfire's flames dance and change color, I honestly couldn't recall what I had been originally trying to rush back to either.

The next day we packed up early and kept pretty good time as we trekked all the way to Dinas Emrys in Snowdonia, and while the crisp mountainous air felt great, I wished I had packed a walking stick, or perhaps a wizard's staff like the great Grandolf the Fay to help my footing when the path narrowed. All along the way we kept searching hotels, pubs, inns- anywhere Nudd Luddlow might have been, but again, as before, without any luck.

By the following day, a thunderous rain shower appeared on the horizon so we stopped for the night at the shoddy looking Twice-Bit Inn. The next morning, I got dressed and headed downstairs to the pub as "Cosmic Dancer" played over a Quidditch match on an enchanted mirror. I asked the red-haired matronly inn-keeper if she'd seen or heard anything about Aurors, Death-Eaters, cauldrons, anything. I showed her the half-chewed picture of Nudd.

She studied it for a moment and said, "The name sounds vaguely familiar, but I can't say I've ever seen him around here, but feel free to ask around."

I nodded, "Ta..."

Some faded runic symbols were carved above the bar in the wood, and the upside-down balloon rune was among them. I asked, "Excuse me, I couldn't help but notice those runes. What do they mean?"

She smiled. "Oh, these old things? Almost forgot they were there. Not sure what the exact translation is, but my babushka used to say they kept the old giants away."

"Giants? Does it work?"

She chuckled and went to go serve another customer. "I don't see any giants around here anymore… do you?"

I took out my notebook, wrote down the series of runes, and ordered some fish and chips with extra tartar sauce. I picked up a copy of yesterday's Evening Prophet and read the front-page article about Aurors' Self and Smith recently arresting more Death-Eaters. Within their looping photos, they stared towards the camera as they stood in the Ministry's lobby and I inspected their faces, their body language, and their eyes. After a moment, the brief loop seemed to slow down and for a split second it almost seemed like Aurors Self and Smith were looking back at me, then the moment quickly passed.

I continued to munch on one of my favorite morning snacks- Teutonic Pumpernickle toast with orange marmalade, and then, once again, when I went to put down the newspaper, Aurors Self and Smith were sitting across from me, just like they were the first time when they appeared out of nowhere.

In my best Cary Grant impression, I said, "I'm beginning not to trust everything I read in the paper."

I tried standing up, but both Aurors immediately flanked me and shoved me back down into my chair, all without any of the other patrons really noticing. Auror Self patted me on my back a little too hard. "Not so fast Gilderoy! Why… I haven't seen you in a donkey's ear!"

He pushed me down even further into my chair, and they both smoothly pulled up a seat. Auror Self nodded, "Oi! Here I was visiting my sweet Auntie Bebe, and who do I find… but our good old friend Lockhart?!"

I tried to explain, "It's not what-"

With his exaggerated cockney accent and cold pointe-blank eyes Auror Self said, "I'm afraid it is you-dedicated-follower-of-fashion-you! Because the last time we had a lil' chat, I clearly remember issuing you a cease-and-desist order on behalf of the Ministry … and now you are going to be detained at her Majesty's pleasure for a real nice long time!"

I tried reasoning with Auror Smith. "No! Please! Hear me out, I'm in a real bloody pickle!" all the while unsure if I was unwittingly falling into their good-cop/bad-cop routine.

She stared at me with seemingly companionate eyes. "Now what's all of this then?"

I go on to tell them everything: the three strangers at the Old Node Inn, the slyphs, Sabrina, the comedy and drama Death-Eaters, Granny Yaga, the bucca, the Witch of Berkley, the Crystal Castle, the Severn Boar, all of it, even the proverbial Lady of the Lake, and at the end I looked at them and said, "Well, that's the truth…"

They looked at each other with empty expressions, and Auror Self slowly lit a cigarette. I wondered if he was actually trying to mull it over in that thick skull of his. After an awkward pause, they looked at each other again and then both burst out with uncontrollable laughing. Auror Self said, "That's the biggest load of clobbers I've ever heard!"

"Alright, fine... you don't believe me, I get it."

Auror Smith sighed and wiped the tears from her eyes. "To be honest that really was the absolute worst story we've heard... maybe, actually... ever."

Between gasping breaths, Auror Self added, "And we've heard quite a few yarns, but it was just so bad... and the telling, oh man, the telling!"

"Well, I don't think the story was _that_ bad."

Auror Self smiled at me. "No, it totally was... your story is complete codswallop."

Indignant, I said, "It is most certainly not cod-"

Auror Self kept smoking and laughing while yelling at me, "It's so convoluted, and it makes no sense! First of all- why would they pick you? And secondly- the plot holes! Why did you have to visit all those places first when Nudd was last seen around Carn Cabal?"

Auror Smith gave Self an unhappy look. Maybe there was more friction between these two partners than I previously surmised. I said, "Wait... what? I didn't know that…" However, I was glad I was on the right track, since that was near where I had originally entered the Forest Sauvage.

Auror Smith looked around and whispered, "Well, that's supposedly correct… but it was classified. Only three people at the Ministry knew about that, and you are looking at two of them."

Auror Self laughed some more, "It was never released to the public because it was never verified, in fact, it might just be another rumor."

"Well, who's your source?" I asked, trying to sound collegial.

Auror Self smiled, "A little bird told us… literally, and you know how they love to lie. Just… like… you!"

I pleaded, "But I'm not making it up, honest."

With another look they both stood up, and Auror Self grabbed my arm and said, "Oi! Stop throwing a wobbler."

I exclaimed, "No, wait! I... I can prove it to you."

"Prove what?" Auror Self raised an eyebrow.

"My story. Look, I'll show you," I pleaded.

"No, you are starting to really cheese me off, yeah? Let's go." Auror Self wrapped his arm around mine.

"Aren't you looking for Slipher? Maybe I can lead you straight to him? Please, let me help!"

Auror Self let go of my arm and pulled out an old scratched military model pocket-watch issued from World War II, just like my Grandfather on my mother's side had (perhaps our Grandfathers served in the same company), and he held it up for me to see the second hand and frowned. "You have exactly one minute... and your time has already started."

"Come with me!"

As the sun began to set, I dragged both Self and Smith over to the barn. Bottom was standing next to a big pig drinking from a large trough filled with a filthy brown liquid. The fair-furred donkey took a bite from a floating rotting potato and I said, "See, this proves it, it does!"

Auror Self looked strangely contemplative, like he was actually listening for once, and he knelt down next to Bottom. He scratched his head, looked at the donkey eye-to-eye, and asked, "Is this true, Bottom? Are you really on a quest to help Gilderoy?"

Dirty brown water dribbled off of Bottom's chin. "Hee-haw!"

Auror Self looked over to Auror Smith and they both gave each other that same blank look, then burst out laughing all over again.

"Alright, I got it the first time." I said.

Auror Smith said, "Omnes homines sunt asini vel homines et asini sunt asini!" and Auror Self replied, "That's for sure!"

I yelled, "Nevermind, forget it!"

They both finally slowly stopped chuckling. Auror Self lit up a cigarette and said, "Yeah, yeah... I guess the joke's over, Mister Fancy-Pants."

He brusquely grabbed me and dragged me back towards the inn. "Frankly, I've had enough of your porkies, so here's how this is going to work- I'm placing you under arrest, taking you back to the Ministry, and you are doing porridge."

"Not porridge, but-but-but-I hate porridge!"

Auror Self smiled to Auror Smith, "This is my favorite part, where they beg." She just shrugged and sighed.

I whispered emphatically, "Please… they have spies in the Ministry, if they see me there, they'll kill Sabrina and then I never find Nudd!"

Auror Self rolled his eyes as Auror Smith avoided looked at me and yanked open the front door. They pushed me over to the fireplace, and Auror Self continued to do the talking. He seethed, "I'm getting tired of you diddling me."

I yelled, "I'm not diddling you, I swear!" to the shock and surprise of all the patrons in the inn as I struggled to free myself.

Auror Self squinted, took a drag of elf-baccy, then gruffly growled, "Oh, I think you are diddling me, I think you're diddling me real good... now get in there!" and shoved me in the fireplace.

"No, I am not!" I said, as I unsuccessfully tried to free myself and smooth my ruffed shirt, but both of my arms were firmly locked between Aurors Self and Smith.

Auror Self pulled out some Floo powder from a small leather pouch and raised his hand, "Snory-bory, a likely-"

In the split second that he tossed the Floo powder down in the fireplace, I did the only thing I could think of and I jumped in the air and kicked off the back of the fireplace launching myself into a rolling summersault. In that briefest of moments when the puff of green smoke filled the air, Aurors Self and Smith chose to let go, rather than be ripped apart while being transported. When the emerald-colored cloud cleared up, they were gone.

The patrons stared at me as I picked myself up off the floor, and I said, "Whew, I threw a real spanner in their works!"

I ran out of the inn as fast as I could, across the courtyard, and back into the barn. Bottom was chewing on some hay while the large pig was slurping up some more of the nasty water from the trough. I went and blocked the door with a large wooden beam through it handles, and looked around at the few open stalls, but there was nowhere else to go. My options were quickly running out as I glanced around for something, anything, maybe a barrel or a pile of hay, but there was nothing large enough to hide me. A sinking pit of dread opened up in my stomach as I heard across the courtyard the inn's front door slam open and Aurors Self and Smith running out.

Auror Self shouted, "It's over Lockhart! We see your tracks from your stupid shoes, you barmy tanker!"

"Blast it..." I whispered and that's the only time in my life I've ever regretted wearing only the finest dwarf-crafted shoes. I cleaned up the rest of my footprints as best I could as they came jogging over to the outside of the barn with their wands raised.

Auror Self knocked on the door three times and yelled, "Come out with your wand up!"

I took a deep breath and braced myself as I stared into the revolting trough while the large pig was drinking from it. As quickly and quietly as I could, I slid into the filthy trough. Underneath the thick brown liquid, it felt even more disgusting than it looked, if that can be believed, and it smelled even worse than it felt. Worse than flobberworm slime and perhaps worse than even blood-mud for sheer revulsion.

I could hear the barn door being banged on a few times and then blasted open. As I waited under the disgusting goop, I could make out vague voices and it sounded like Auror Self yelling angrily. After thirty seconds or so I thought to myself, "If I have to wait any longer I'm going to drown."

I started to feel the pig's mouth lapping around my face, and it tried to slurp up some of my hair. Then it started pulling my hair. Then it gagged a little, and then it retched its previous meal on my head. Then, yes, it started drinking it again.

Finally, as I was nearly passing out, the voices and footsteps faded away. I heard the barn door slam shut, and I then burst forth from the disgusting goop. I took a big gulp of fresh air as the chunky slimy goop dripped down my face. I stepped out of the trough and took a butchers for Aurors Self and Smith, but fortunately they were both gone.

"It seems as if we've eluded them, for now..." I informed Bottom, although he seemed rather unconcerned as he chewed on some hay.

After hosing off, changing, and burning my old suit, we travelled out of town and back onto the Kingsroad and into the Forest Sauvage again. We reached a dense wooded area of the largest trees we've seen yet, and I smartly surmised it must have been a remnant pocket of an ancient Caledonian forest, with its dense scraggly Scot Pines that are directly related to their ancestors- the giant First Pines of Middle-Earth of course. I looked up and the trees seemed to go all the way up the sky, and beyond. We continued strolling through the forest and I remembered that some wizards say if you look closely you can still make out a face on some of the trees- left-over Petrified Ents, as it were.

But faces-on-trees freaks me out, so I didn't.

As we headed deeper and deeper into the gigantic wood, the large branches would rub on each other and make strange noises that were a cross between a creaking door and a wailing woman. Either way, it was a little unsettling.

"Yee-haw, let's get moving!" I said to Bottom, hoping he would pick up the pace, but he just continued to dawdle along.

We next came to a small clearing with a dolmen made of shiny black marble all inside a large "fairy-ring" of plump and sweaty red-and-white mushrooms. This dolmen also had runes carved into the big black slags and also had the upside-down balloon rune.

It was a little after midnight when I set up camp, and I took out my notebook and started making a detailed map of all the places I had been and where I had seen the runes. There was a general pattern of a diagonal line heading towards Anglesey, and I hoped for Nudd's sake that we were heading in the right direction. Afterwards, as Bottom and I ate a hearty and healthy vegetable stew over an open fire, I looked up at the stars and felt that I might be slightly getting used to outdoor life, and even though I didn't travel much as a youth, I was slowly hearing the lifelong call to adventure.

The next day after breakfast and tea, Bottom and I traveled across a large bridge onto the Island of Anglesey. Although I had a stiff back and was feeling a tad worn out, the salty ocean air and gull caws really picked my spirits right up, and I unexpectedly burst forth with a stirring rendition of "My bonnie lies over the ocean". Bottom, of course, neglected to clap, but I didn't hold it against him (well, maybe a little).

We passed a large white marble menhir at least fifty-feet high that rose to a sharp point at the top. It was surrounded by windmills that had an old-fashioned hex sign of a dark blue spiral that reminded me a bit of the Picts who used to roam these lands.

Later that afternoon we made our way across the island to the North-West coast, where we stopped at a pub named the Scriblerus Club. I tied up Bottom out front and walked in as a skiffle band was playing a cover of the "Safety Dance". I looked around left, right, and center for Nudd, but sadly there were still no leads.

The only thing the local wizards wanted to talk about was how the cath palug had recently returned. A surly red-haired dwarf with a long, braided beard slammed his glass and said, "How do we know it's not just a Scottish wildcat?"

A gothic-looking witch with heavy eyeliner and spiky black hair took a drag of her clove cigarette. "The one I saw was as big as a horse and could fly, and I don't think Scottish wildcats can do that, now can they?"

The dwarf took a swig. "I guess not... well, if it is true, hopefully the cath palug is good at catching all those bloody quitapeds that have been popping up!"

"Is that so?" I asked. "Well, one of the few examples of a Fantastical Creature that is a classified sub-species of Preternatural Predator is a cath palug, otherwise known as a chapalu, and if it wasn't for yours truly-"

The dwarf yelled, "And who in the bloody hell are you?!"

I slowly backed up, walked away and asked some other rather more friendlier customers around the pub about Nudd and the cauldron, but no one had seen or heard anything.

I settled my tab near the fireplace and stopped to look at a large painting of the Anglesey heraldic coat of arms. There were three gold lions in the center shield, flanked on the sides by a white bull and snow tiger. It was all topped by a red dragon adorned with the motto- _MON MAM CYMRU_.

The red dragon looked rather similar to the dragon's head key from the Slough of Despond, and I felt I was probably headed in the right direction. I inspected the painting further and the bull seemed to be wearing some sort of hideous seaweed necklace, compared to the snow tiger which at least had the decency to wear a respectable wreath of oak and elderberries.

The surly dwarf stomped up to the bar, but instead of starting a problem he just laughed and said, "Ha, supposedly they're all from Twiggy Eggnog!"

"I'm sorry… what?"

He leaned back like he smelled something bad or was about to lose his balance. Either way, he said rather presumptuously, "You've never heard of the legend of Twiggy Eggnog? It's the island where all the sailors who are lost at sea wind up."

"Really, well where is it?" I asked.

The burly dwarf smiled. "Well, it's west of here, but no one knows exactly… none of the sailors have ever returned, of course."

"So… how does everybody know the island's name if nobody has ever returned?" I asked thinking I had got him.

But the drunk dwarf just laughed, "Aye, that's the best part, isn't it?!" and slapped me on the back.

I left immediately and hauled Bottom straight for the coast. We hiked past Holyhead Mountain and up to another large cromlech overlooking the dark and stormy ocean.

Looking out at the shore, I dramatically recited, "There dwells a lovely one, but cruel is she… she left lonely forever, the kings of the sea!" And in response to my moving tribute, Bottom just regurgitated a clump of cud because he clearly has no appreciation for the fine arts.

When I inspected the cromlech this time, besides runes and Latin script, I saw some faded engravings in Gaelic as well. I couldn't translate it exactly, but from what I remembered from my O.W.L.'s, it marked the former site of some sort of Druidic nemeton (sacred grove). However, if this was once a large forest, there weren't any trees here anymore, only grasses and shrubs.

After making our way down the hillside to a pier, we rented a small sailboat christened Ulysses from an Irish sailor named Jay-Jay. The Dire Straits were playing on the radio as I stocked up at a rundown bait shop on the wharf, and later in the misty moonlight, Bottom and I walked out on the dock, took out Le Fay's Lantern, and set out to find the Isle of Twiggy Eggnog.

After helping Bottom into the rocky boat, I said, " _Alea iacta est_ …"

I rowed out into the choppy waves and Bottom held the Lantern in his mouth. The blue light shown towards the western sea, just like I thought it would, although I didn't feel particularly glad about being right for once. We sailed for a couple of hours into the churning ocean fairly uneventfully, but then oddly, the wind died down.

"I thought it would pick up the further out…" I said to Bottom and suddenly realized that a few planks of wood was all that was keeping me from the immense sea below me. We must have been in some sort of weird doldrum, so I rolled up the sail, which was practically useless at this point anyways, and started rowing.

I rowed for hours and hours, which would have defeated any weaker man, however, I summoned up all my Ravenclaw rowing crew skills and traveled much further than most mere mortals could into the dark wine of the sea. But after a long hard day's night, by the early morning light there was still no land in sight.

"Water, water, everywhere, but not a drop to drink…"

In the heavy fog and misty air I was starting to get worried, but I kept going as best I could in the same general direction, as Le Fay's Lantern's light slowly faded. The sun began to rise above the eastern horizon, and I told Bottom, "This isn't good."

The dawn's blue light illuminated all the fog and mist around me and now my guiding light was completely gone. Then I was beset by a literal Fog of Confusion that was as thick as sheep's wool. I could push my hand through it for a just a moment, and after it would re-condense back into a soupy-like blanket.

Small waves tossed us about as we drifted aimlessly along in the cloudy climes, and it began sprinkling as I tried setting course using the hazy obscured sun, but I was having a hard time rowing against all the choppy waves, or chop, as it were. When I was about to turn around, I saw what could have been a seagull, or maybe an even an albatross. But in that fog, I swear I could hear a high-pitched, "Ha-ha, ha-ha!"

I looked around and out of the corner of my eye, I swear I saw a white bird heading north west across the sky. I rowed after it yelling, "Sir Kay? Is that you?!"

Eventually, I could no longer see the bird, but then a lone white feather descended from the sky a little ways away. I rowed over and reached out to grab it. Suddenly, a loud crash rocked the boat and I almost fell overboard.

When I looked down into the dark water, I could see a pod of pugnacious kelpies (a race of "sea-horses" similar to what Muggles call the Loch Ness Monster- basically they act like dolphins but with even bigger egos) swimming around. The kelpies rushed up to the surface and trampled the boat with their hoof-like flippers, tossing and turning us in the waves. I tried rowing faster but wasn't getting very far and a particularly large and vicious kelpie jumped up to attack me. I used the oat to beat it back, but it just chomped down on the wooden oar like it was nothing, reducing it to mere splinters.

"You give us mammals a bad name!" I yelled at them, but they didn't seem to care. Then all of a sudden, and quite luckily too, out of seemingly nowhere, a school of shining slyphs bubbled up to the surface to distract the killer kelpies. The swarm of slyphs swirled around and created a whirlpool to contain the kelpies while I rowed away with the use of my one good oar.

"Ta, slyphs!" I yelled back and turned around in time to see a large piece of jagged rock poking out of the ocean. I tried avoiding it, but an immense wave lifted up the small rowboat and smashed it upon the jutting rock. As the crumbling boat began to splinter and break apart, I thought about how I had never Apparated with a farm animal before, and wasn't sure I could do it safely, so instead I aimed my wand at us and said, " _Wingardimum Leviosoar_ " and Bottom and I floated up into the air.

I used a spell to enlarge my cape and held it out to catch the wind like a sail or kite. Holding onto Bottom's leash, we found ourselves sailing above the sea like we were flying (all without a broom, mind you) as the kelpies angrily thrashed and splashed below. As we continued floating in the air, I spotted an island in the dark and yelled out "Land-ahoy!" just as a large wave snuck up from behind and smashed into us. We fell topsy-turvy into the cold seething saltwater like cream swirled into tea.

After that the only thing I can remember was waking up on a rocky shore as a young farm boy was pulling me out of the cold and foamy sea.


	16. Ch 15- Twiggy Eggnog

Chapter 15-

Twiggy Eggnog

The sun shone brightly behind the boy as he held out a helping hand. I reached up and he pulled me out of the cold saltwater and with a goofy grin he said, "Hullo! I'm Taran! Welcome to Twiggy Eggnog!"

My shin was all scraped up and bleeding, and I couldn't locate my embroidered monogram handkerchief at that moment, so I tore off a shirt sleeve and wrapped it around my calf to stanch the flow of blood. I stepped rather gingerly with a limp, while the young pig-herder boy smiled another odd grimace and said, "By the way, my name's Taran-"

"I heard you the first time, please just be quiet!" I winced in pain as I looked around for Bottom, but he was nowhere to be found. I called out, "Bottom! Bottom!"

"What's all of this then?" Taran asked.

"I lost my donkey- Bottom." I winced some more.

"Did you find the other half?" Taran guffawed, and I don't mean, he just sort-of laughed, I mean he actually went, "Huh, guffaw-guffaw!"

I paused, and then said, "Don't you have some pigs to herd or something?"

He glanced over to a nearby hill, "They're fine."

While I yelled out, "Bottom! Come here, Bottom!" I only then figured out how ridiculous a name it was, but it was already too late to change it. There was even more wincing as I limped down a winding dirt road and I hobbled through a meadow that had a small creek running through it.

On each side of the crick there was a flock of sheep- on one side was group of all white sheep, and on the other side of the water there were all black sheep. We walked up to cross over the bridge and passed a couple of old men fishing. I overheard them taking bets on which color sheep would be next. I asked a bloke who looked like Gordon Lightfoot, "What's all of this then?"

After a brief moment, one of the white sheep bleated and then suddenly one of the black sheep Apparated across the river and turned into a white sheep. Then, when one of the black sheep bleated, one of the white sheep popped over to the other side and became black.

Taran smiled, "Ha, that? It was the only way to settle an old family feud."

I stared at him. "You're still here?"

Taran awkwardly followed me over a hill, up to a wooden area replete with more gigantic Scot Pines like back on the other isle of Anglesey. As we walked through the wood, I had the peculiar feeling that somebody was watching me, and I thought I saw a face on a large knobby old tree trunk, but it could have just been my imagination.

I reluctantly let Taran fetch me a make-shift crutch out of a tree branch, and he led me up to a clearing where there were a few small cozy rustic homes, complete with windmills in their fields that were adored with the same cobalt-blue spiral hex circle from Anglesey as well. We slowly meandered down the dirt path closer to the village-like town, and it had a large cromlech out front surrounded by a fairy ring of bright red and white mushrooms again. But this time they had actual fairies living in them, where the mushrooms were their homes. When I looked up to say something to Taran, I saw Bottom grazing on some grass a little way away.

"Bottom, there you are!" I exclaimed and excitedly ran over, "Don't you wander away again like that. You had me worried, you did!"

"You found your donkey- Bottom!" Taran laughed.

"Yep, that's what I just did… you don't really have to comment on it." I requested.

"I don't have to comment on it?" He asked.

"Ugh..." I wasn't sure if he was really as duff as he was playing at or if he just liked annoying me. When I walked back over to the fairy ring and cromlech, the fairies became very excited and adorned Bottom and me with a wreath of Elderflowers and Whitethorn.

They started feeding me succulent fruits and delicious drinks. I said, "I could get used to this!"

"Yes, indeed! It's wonderful here!" Taran kept smiling.

"The fairies where I'm from aren't very friendly, do you breed these special?"

He smiled some more, "Hmmm, breed them? Oh, yes, these are special fairies... very safe, very docile, but you'll find most magical creatures here really are, very friendly indeed, not like other places."

"What do you mean? Like even friendly... trolls?" I was beginning to wonder if this place was too good to be true (besides Taran, of course).

He hopped around a little. "Oh, yes! Trolls, gnomes, doxies, grindelows- all the magical creatures that live here do so in harmony and in peace!"

"Unbelievable, really. So… I take it you like living here as well?"

His eyes welled up. "Whole-heartedly! Why this place... it's like a little piece of paradise the world forgot existed!"

I looked around at the fields and farmlands, it looked like a nice place to visit but I wouldn't want to live there. "Just lovely... but could you show me the way to the khazi?"

"Right this way, sir!" He led up us down the small dirt road to the entrance of the village. It was surrounded by a moat and a huge stone wall covered in ivy. The entrance gate was adorned with a big red banner emblazoned with large golden script that read-

 _CONSUETUDO PRO LEGE SERVATUR!_

I said to Bottom. "Ooh la-la, very fancy… I like it."

When we tried walking through the entrance gate, two large white centaurs complete in shiny red and gold medieval armor popped out from behind the parapets to stop us in our tracks. The bigger one trotted over and informed us, "All foreign wizards must submit their wands to be inspected and approved!"

It was a little unusual, but not unheard of, so I asked, "Alright... fine, how long does that take?"

The centaur pulled out a scroll of parchment from his satchel and handed it to me and said gruffly, "It takes at least twenty-four hours- Sign here, and here, and here…"

"Twenty-four hours! What in the wide world of wizards could take that long!" I asked.

The Centaur reared back into the air, neighed loudly, and smashed his hooves down with a loud crash, "Excuse me, is there a problem here?"

Uh oh. "Um, no... no problem."

The smaller centaur trotted over and removed their helmet. A long luxurious mane of red hair came cascading down in slow-motion. With all the shiny uniformed armor it was difficult to tell at first, but then I realized it wasn't a male centaur at all but a lady centaurette- one of the rarest and most exquisite Fantastical Beasts there are (if you know where to find them).

With the most enchanting yellow eyes I'd ever seen, she said, "Excuse me, what's the problem here?"

"No, no problem... at all." I said as I looked down at her bright gold painted hoofs.

She said, "Excuse me, my eyes are up here…" and waved her hands in front of my face.

"Sorry, it's just... I've never seen a real centaurette in the wild before."

She smiled, "Yes, we do not roam out in the open very often, but we're real alright."

I winked at her. "Real... spectacular."

The thick-headed centaur butted in, "In any case… we are going to have to confiscate your wand for, at least, now that I think about it, it's after-hours on a Friday, and what with the three-day holiday weekend... the offices are closed for at least… until Tuesday… at the earliest."

"Oh, come on! I'm on business from the Ministry." Well, sort of.

The centaur looked surprised for a second and then tried to hide it, "Oh, really… can I see some official paperwork and notarized documentation?"

I leaned in and whispered, "Well, technically it's officially 'unofficial' business as I am a… private detective… who is working on behalf of the Ministry… as an independent auditor… on a very sensitive and classified case involving one of their Aurors. Isn't there anything anybody can do?" Which, to be fair to me, was exactly how I saw it.

The centaur shook his head and neighed. "Hmmm. Sorry chum, around here… the word is law, and the law is word."

I pleaded my case as the pace of paradise began to lose some of its luster,

"Even if someone's life could be in danger?"

He sneered, "Are you asking me to break the law? Are you?! Because that is against the law!"

I smiled and shrugged. "No-no-no-no, I'm not asking you to break the law… just 'bend' it a little, please?"

He just stared straight ahead and yelled in a loud flat voice, "The law is word, and the word is law!"

"Of course it is." I reluctantly handed my wand over, and he said I could pick it up Tuesday at the constable's office.

I asked the centaurette, "Are you going to be there?"

"...not if I can help it." she replied and sadly trotted out of my life forever.

I turned back towards Bottom, "Great, now what are we going to do till then?"

"I know a tavern that serves a mean blood pudding." Taran said.

"Why do you keep following me?!" I didn't understand. I thought I had lost him.

"It's off of Main Street, down by the courtyard." He smiled and pointed towards what I could obviously see for myself.

"Thanks, we'll take it from here." I insisted and led Bottom along. "Now please, leave us alone…"

Taran just stood there smiling awkwardly as we walked up to the cobblestone courtyard in the center of the wee twee village. It looked like it could have been out of some old Walt Disney cartoon, or the Wizard of Oz- everyone was so happy, friendly, healthy, and clean. However, there was something about all of them that I couldn't quite put my finger on. Bottom and I strolled pass a farmer's market with a group of children wearing hand-crafted animal masks who were dancing around a maypole and singing this song-

"Svmer is icumen in

Lhude sing cuccu

Groweþ sed

and bloweþ med

and springþ þe wde nu

Sing cuccu

Awe bleteþ after lomb

lhouþ after calue cu

Bulluc sterteþ

bucke uerteþ

murie sing cuccu

Cuccu cuccu

Wel singes þu cuccu

ne swik þu nauer nu

Sing cuccu nu • Sing cuccu.

Sing cuccu • Sing cuccu nu!"

They finished, and I looked at a cute blond-haired child in a sheep mask and informed him, "Pretty good for a wee bonnie lass, but you were just a little flat-"

"Baa!" The sheep-masked boy said and kicked me in my injured shin.

I tried to grab him as he ran away, "Come here you little-!"

Taran popped up next to me, "Hello again!"

"Go away!" I insisted.

He smiled. "I was just going to the pub I was talking to you about."

"I see... well, then I'm… just going to go… in another direction... then." and I walked Bottom over to the other side of the courtyard where there was a large marble sculpture of a water-fountain. It had all sorts of different magical creatures dancing with witches and wizards.

"Bottom, look-!" I couldn't quite believe it.

At the top there was large white cauldron with water shooting and bubbling out the top, up into the air, and back into the fountain pool. Various villagers were going up and drinking from the fountain, and then they would all start laughing and dancing.

The sun was beginning to set, so I took out Le Fay's Lantern and to my surprise the light shown on the fountain itself. I walked around the fountain and it still shined upon it. I asked an old lady nearby who was selling fruit, "Excuse me, you wouldn't know the name of that cauldron up there would you?"

The fruit vendor said, "Of course, it's the Cauldron of Avalon."

"The actual cauldron?" I pointed at the top.

The old lady laughed, "Ha, ha… no, that's just a copy, but luckily the waters of this fountain were mixed with the real cauldron by Sir Nicholas Flamel, before he hid the cauldron once again."

"Nicholas Flamel himself, really?"

She said proudly, "It was a gift to the island for having guarded the Cauldron of Avalon, for so long."

She handed me her cup, "Here, take a sip of our _Aqua Vitae_."

I thanked her and took a sip. I felt a bit woozy. "It's not bad, but it's got a weird aftertaste."

When I looked down, I saw Bottom was drinking right from the fountain, and I exclaimed, "No, Bottom!"

The old lady said, "Oh, it's alright, I'm sure a little donkey drool won't hurt none."

And then a rather odd thing started happened- Bottom started to cough, bray, and hee-haw uncontrollably.

"Are you alright Bottom?" He continued gagging and retching, and fell over on his side, shaking and frothing at the mouth. Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong.

"It's killing him!" I yelled.

"Impossible…" The villager said with unbelieving eyes.

All at once Bottom stopped and remained motionless. I wasn't sure if he was dead or not. Then he started shaking again, but now he was changing shape as well.

"What's it doing?!" I was trying to remain calm.

"I... don't know." The old lady looked concerned.

Bottom's tail shrunk till it disappeared, then his front hooves turned into hands, and back hooves into feet. The front legs morphed into arms, and the golden-brown fur covering the body shrunk and faded away to reveal the torso of a man but still with a donkey's head.

The donkey-headed man stood up, and said, "Hee-haw, hee-haw, hee-haw-"

"Bottom!" I exclaimed, "What's happening to you?"

Then the ears shrank down and became more rounded, the nose and forehead got smaller, and the chin became bigger until the face was no longer of a donkey-headed man. No, now it was just some plain old regular man.

But I was gobsmacked, for it was not just any plain old regular man- It was Nudd Ludlow!

"Nudd!" My eyes welled up for someone I didn't really know personally, but since I learned so much about him, that it did feel like I knew him, sort of.

The man looked at me with a confused but friendly smile and said, "Hee-Lo?"

"Is it you? Is it really you… Nudd Ludlow?!"

"Um... yes, I'm Nudd..." He looked a little confused, "I think, do I… do I know you?"

I took out the chewed-up picture and compared it to him. It was definitely him alright. I said, "I can't believe I actually found you. I'm here on behalf of The Daily- I mean, The Department of Mysteries from the Ministry of Magic."

"I didn't even know I was lost…" he said and scratched his head.

"Which is so often the case. Regardless, we need to get you some clothes."

Nudd looked down and saw he was naked, he then looked around to see everyone in the courtyard staring at him. He covered himself as best he could, smiled, waved and blushed.

I just yelled out, "It's alright... he's from Bristol!"

Everyone nodded and went back to their business while I pulled out some clothes from my travel case and gave some to Nudd.

I asked, "Nudd… can you remember who is the Minister of Magic?"

I took out my wand and emitted a small light and began checking his eyes.

"It's um... Barty Crouch." He said as his pupils dilated and he followed the wand, which was a good sign.

"Righty-Oh! Now, what year is it?"

Nudd said, "That's easy… it's nineteen-eighty-two."

This wasn't good, it was since it was April 30th, 1983. I said, "Alright, where do you live?"

"I live in Bristol with my lovely wife Ariel." He gave an oblivious smile.

Uh oh. "Can you tell me the last thing you remember?"

"I... I was... let's see, I'm having trouble." He started to look concerned.

"It's alright, take your time."

"I remember saying a long goodbye to Ariel… because the Ministry had assigned me to go do some undercover work with my partner Will Self."

"Good, good... then what?"

He thought for a moment before continuing, "Will and I left town and began trailing some Death-Eaters… in order to locate Voldemort's whereabouts. We followed them up to the Forest Sauvage where they were meeting some other Death-Eaters, then we were..." His face revealed that he was remembering it as he was saying it. "Something went wrong... we were ambushed… there must… must have been a mole at the Ministry! They knew that we were going to be there... but they didn't know who we were, not exactly."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Will and I would always change our appearances when doing Shadowalks, that's what we called going undercover... we would use everything from costumes, accents, and fake identities and, of course, Poly Juice Potion- I can't forget that taste even if I tried."

"I suppose that makes sense. Then what happened?"

He paused for a moment and stared blankly before beginning again. "I don't think Voldemort was there himself... but we were surrounded by Death-Eaters, dark creatures, and giants. They captured us. They… tortured us… with the Cruciatus Curse to reveal who we really were!"

He was starting to get upset, so I put my hand on his shoulder, "It's alright, you're safe here… then what?"

His eyes were wide. "They said they would… kill me… if Will didn't reveal who he really was…"

"And?"

He stared at me. "That's the last thing I remember."

That wasn't good. "I see…"

Nudd looked at the rope around his neck. "Did… they turn me into a… donkey?! I'm can't recall…"

"No, I don't think so, strangely enough. I think that might have actually come later. But just to double-check, when you and your partner Self were attacked by Death-Eaters, when was that… what was the date?"

"Maybe it was... a few days ago. Or last week? Erm… November… first, or second?" He honestly had no idea.

"Look, Nudd, I'm sorry to inform you... but that must have happened at least six months ago."

Nudd looked confused and scared for a moment, and sat down. "Wait, what? How can that be? Where have I been this whole time? How come I can't remember?!"

He kept getting more and more frantic, but I tried to calm him, "Don't worry Nuddy, I'm sure it will all come back... just give it a little time. It's common for it to take a while."

"It is? Oh." That seemed to settle him a bit. "Was… I really turned into a donkey?"

I tried sugar coating it as best I could. "Well… yes."

"Huh." He thought about it for a moment, then sighed, "Yeah... you're probably right, I'm sure my memories will come back soon enough.

"Absolutely." Honestly, I wasn't really that sure.

He nodded. "Crom, I miss Ariel, I can't wait to see her."

"You will, soon enough." I couldn't break it to him just yet, and it wasn't a lie, not technically. Alright, fine- a small tiny little white lie, for the right reason. Is that so wrong?

He looked around the strange village. "Well… anything interesting happen recently?"

I thought about the Goy-Who-Lived and You-Know-Eww's downfall for a moment, then replied, "No... not really."

The fact that he could remember anything at all from his previous life led me to believe he had been transformed into a donkey later, months after his disappearance, and only for a few days, or at most, a couple of weeks, because had he been an animal for much longer he might not have even remembered his own name, which is one of the noted unfortunate side-effects of being transformed into an animal for too long if you are not an actual Animagus. I took out my dossier on his case and showed him pictures of Ariel, his home, Auror Self and the Ministry. "Any more recent memories?"

"I'm getting a few vague impressions, more like glimpses… but nothing exact, sorry."

"I'm sure it won't take too long, Bottom- sorry, I mean Nudd."

Nudd smiled. "Thanks... whoever you are."

We shook hands. "Sorry, where are my manners. I'm Gilderoy Lockhart, nice to meet you… again."

He laughed just a little, and it seemed to relax him a bit. "Nice to meet you… again."

I gestured around the small village. "So, anything you want to do now that you're no longer a donkey and back to being human?"

"Well… I am pretty hungry," Nudd said, rubbing his belly.

"Great, so you're exactly the same!"


	17. Ch 16- Hecate, Simon, and Herpo

Chapter 16-

The Legend of Hecate, Simon Magnus, and Herpo-the-Foul.

Nudd and I stopped at the Jannes-and-Jambres' Pub, a rundown eatery that mainly served fish and/or chips, and as we consumed our vittles, Nudd looked around at the patrons and said, "We need to find someone with a boat to get off this island."

I nodded, "Yes, but we also need to find that cauldron. You see, there's someone who is being held hostage and unless I find the it they're going to kill her."

All the colour drained from Nudd's face, like he had just seen a ghost.

"What is it?"

His eyes went wide. "It's feels like Déjà vu. Like I'm remembering a dream. I

can remember that same thing happened to me… but I can't… remember who the person being held hostage was."

I hesitated. "I'm… sure you'll remember soon."

Our friendly looking waitress walked up to check on us and smiled. "Hello boyos, I insist you try some of our famous Gilly Mead!"

"Gilly Weed?" I asked.

"No, Gilly Mead. It's a Twiggy Eggnog specialty, everyone here drinks it."

"Never heard of it."

"Me either." Nudd replied.

"First drink is on the house!" She held up a pitcher.

"Well, alright, why not?"

"Sure..." Nudd smiled a little more, "I can't remember the last time I had a drink!"

The waitress poured us the foamy sea-green drink in large chilled glass mugs and we each took a sip. It was actually pretty good but there was a weird, and yet strangely familiar, pine and sardine aftertaste that's was difficult to get pass. I felt myself getting dizzy, and even though I don't often drink, it seemed to pack quite a punch.

I asked the waitress about the cauldron in the fountain. She said, "You know, I don't really remember, I think it has something to do with Queen Mab uniting the different magical kingdoms."

"What kinds of _magical kingdoms?"_

She said, "like earth, water, and air."

"What about fire?" I asked.

She cleared away our old empty mugs and gave us fresh new ones. "Fire is the human realm, of course. Other than that, I'm not really sure… but you know who would know?"

She informed us to talk to a rather large fair-haired fellow by the named Finn MacCool who was in the middle of playing Snarts (it's like Muggle darts, except you blow Wizzywigs out of your nose) who told us, "I've lived here my whole life and the only thing I know is, everybody here has a different opinion!"

I nearly spit out my Gilly Mead, "Wait, what?! This is your island and you don't all agree?"

Finn looked around, "Well, the official word is once upon a time Queen Mab of Avalon used the cauldron to protect the island from invaders-"

"Where did she get it?" I asked.

"The legends say it was originally forged in Avalon itself by fairies, back when England was still Albion, and was the first magical cauldron."

"What do you think?" I could tell he was holding something back.

'Yes, could be, could be. But..." He looked around.

"But what?" I asked.

He looked around, then lowered his voice to barely more than a rat's whisper, "There are other rumors, that... nothing. It's nothing, nevermind."

"What is it, man?! Tell me!" I grabbed Finn MacCool by the collar like I was channeling Auror Self himself.

He looked around, "Well, I've heard that Death-Eaters believe in a different story… where long ago in ancient Greece when Herpo-the-Foul killed the witch Hecate, he stole her cauldron and created the very first Horcrux."

I thought about it for a moment. "I knew about him being the first Parseltongue and that he made the first Horcrux, but I never heard the part about Hecate."

He whispered, "I know, I know. Like I said, it's apocryphal."

"Yes, it really is truly awful." I said.

"No, apocryphal, you know- unofficial rumors, legends, tall tales..." Finn said, and finished his game of Snarts. We sat down at the bar and immediately more mugs of Gilly Mead appeared.

"Is it really true?" I asked.

He took a swig and smiled. "It all just depends on what story you want to believe in."

I said, "I suppose... but what does Herpo have to do with Queen Mab?"

He looked around some more, then whispered, "According to the story, years later after the fall of Alexandria, Herpo transfigured himself into a captain in the Roman army, and he trekked away to Albion with a phalanx of Roman soldiers."

"What?" I was intrigued, "Have you ever heard any of this" I asked Nudd, checking to see if maybe the curriculum had changed at Hogwarts over the years.

"No, I read that Herpo was executed due to his involvement in the Tarquinian Superbus conspiracy." Nudd answered, and I was surprised that his long-term memory still pretty good.

"That's just _damnatio memoriae."_ Finn whispered.

"It sure is…" I replied.

Finn took another swig from his large stein of Gilly Mead, "Anyways, supposedly Grendelwald and his followers believed that Herpo-the-Foul had actually trekked all the way to Old Briton. With his dark magic and his own roman army, Herpo gave the Druids of Albion a choice to either join him or die. Any Druid Warlock that didn't join him, he tortured, and stole as much of their magic as he could. It didn't take him long to learn about Avalon, which Druids called Annwfn. They kept up a pretty good fight, but eventually Herpo teamed up with the old Nordic Nodens and frost giants that the Druids had previously driven out of Albion and back up North."

"Frost giants?" I asked, "Is that their official name?"

"No, not exactly, but they were like the ancestors to the Gaelic giants, and they had a weird named like the Foam-Giants, or something."

"Fomorians?" Nudd inquired.

"From...Ultima Thule?" I asked, starting to put the pieces of the puzzle together.

"That's it. Fomorians! I can never remember the name for some reason." He continued, "Herpo promised the Fomorians the rest of Briton if he could have Avalon. Together they invaded and conquered Albion and the Britons, while Herpo kept searching for Avalon. And, of course, it wasn't until centuries later that King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table drove the frost giants out once again."

"That part I am familiar with," I said, and Nudd nodded silently.

Finn ordered another drink. "Of course the Druids last stand was at Stonehenge and the last of them were all killed off. Well, there's rumors a few remaining Warlocks fled to Europe, but Crom only knows."

"Why was I never taught this at Hogwarts?" I said and took a look at Nudd who was just listening silently.

Finn said, "Well, it's supposedly what Death-Eaters believe, so it's not exactly what the Ministry wants to promote."

I asked Nudd, "Did you ever hear these stories in Defense Against the Dark Arts class?"

Nudd shook his head, "No. But these stories seem… familiar, somehow. I feel like I have heard them before when Will and I were Shadowalking. I think he might be right."

This fact disturbed me for some reason. The bigger picture was slowly revealing itself, but I wasn't sure if the real actual cauldron was getting any closer to my grasp, or if was turning into even more of a distant fairy tale.

"So, what happened? Did Herpo ever find Avalon, or Annwfn, or whatever it's bloody well called?" I asked.

"No…" Finn took another a gulp of the blue-green ale, "He was close but before he could find it, there was a battle somewhere out there in the Sea of Angles, and although both sides suffered devastating losses, it was apparently took long enough for Queen Mab to sacrifice herself to create a protective charm that would hide Avalon from Herpo-the-Foul and his gang forever."

"Hmm, what ever happened to Herpo?" I asked.  
"Some say he died in battle. Others say he fled to Eastern Europe, or even further."

"Well… that indeed was a lot of information," I yawned, "but don't worry though, I always yawn when learning something new."

I was definitely keeping track of all the stories, all the different versions, non-sequitars, contradictions, and permutations of the cauldron. At least I think I was.

I asked, "You keeping track, Nudd?"

He nodded, but he seemed preoccupied. "Uh? Oh, yeah, I think so. I knew there were some crazy stories the Death-Eaters believed in."

I sighed, "Not sure how any of this is going to help us find the cauldron…"

Nudd looked up. "Now that I think about it, I do remember a story by Beetle-the-Bard about a magical white cauldron, and it said that any witch who drank from the cauldron who was brave and true will have their wish, but that those who aren't, will be cursed to live just the opposite."

Finn added, "Yes, that's the spell Hecate had put on her Cauldron days before Herpo killed her, although he didn't know it at the time."

I said, "Mother always said was that magic is a lot like love, karma, and justice- _For_ _your wish must be noble and true, otherwise you'll surely get what's coming to you!"_

Nudd asked, "So... did Hecate know Herpo?"

Finn almost spilled his drink. "Really… you don't already know this part of the story?"

We both shook our heads, and Finn continued. "Well, you do know that the witch Hecate, Simon Magnus, and Herpo-the-Foul once upon a time were all best friends when they were young, right?"

I just shrugged, and Nudd said, "I don't think so."

"Yes, when they were just school children, they were all best friends, then years later, the green-eyed Herpo grew jealous of Simon, and wanted Simon's wife Hecate to love him instead. So… one night, Herpo killed Simon Magnus and accidentally almost created the first Horcrux."

Nudd asked, "Almost?"

"Yes, but it didn't work completely, some say it was more of a temporary Horcrux. But once Herpo realized what he had done, he was determined to try it again."

Nudd replied, "Then what?" Don't worry, though even though I wasn't asking the questions I definitely wasn't asleep, I was listening. With my eyes closed.

Finn continued, "After her husband Simon was murdered, Hecate felt herself being consumed by darkness, vengeance, and wraith. So, she put a spell on the Cauldron in case she ever tried to use it for Dark Magic against Herpo. Later, she tried defeating him but he was too powerful and she lost. On the brink of death, Herpo gave her a choice to either join him in unholy matrimony or die, and she choose death. And that's when he successfully created the first Horcrux."

Nudd said, "Blooming bloody hell's bells in the South of Wales..."

My head jerked forward and I exclaimed, "I'm awake!"

They both stared at me as Finn shook around the last of the foamy aquamarine dregs at the bottom of his glass mug, and I said, "Thank you for all your help, I will do my best to find the Cauldron and keep it safe! I really must retire now, however."

"We..." Nudd added, "We... will do our best."

"Yes, yes, _WE…_ will do our best." I had to oblige him, but honestly having a partner was taking some getting used to.

"Ha, good luck, I hope you know it when you see it." Finn laughed and took his last swig of sea-foamy Gilly Mead.

"Um, what do you mean?" I asked.

Finn stood up and swayed on wobbly legs, "Well, supposedly Morgan Le Fay was a master of transfiguration, right, as all Avalonians are? And legend has it that she transformed the cauldron to disguise it from those unworthy to seek it."

"Great, like what?" I asked.

"Again, nobody knows for sure but-" MacCool started up again. I didn't like the sound of that.

"I got it! Stop beating around the Firebush." I insisted.

He whispered, "It could be a vase, cup, goblet-"

"Great, it could be anything!" I pounded the table.

Finn raised an eyebrow. "Not necessarily… transfiguration is a tricky science and usually isn't permanent."

"So..."

He ran his hands over an imaginary object in the air. "Most likely the cauldron will be in a similar shape with the same number of surfaces and sides, more likely a crystal ball or hat, rather than a ring or a chain."

"Got it- one smooth object, but no holes?" I said.

"You're catching on…" Finn said, then he smiled and tilted his head. Outside the pub there were the sounds of drums and a procession, and everyone inside stood up all at once, almost in unison.

Finn MacCool smiled an odd, Taran-like grin. "They're starting!"


	18. Ch 17- The Black Book of HC Agrippa

Chapter 17-

The Black Book of

H.C. Agrippa

Everyone shuffled out of the stuffy pub and onto Main Street. A large crowd was gathered around the overflowing fountain as an old man stepped up onto a makeshift raised platform next to a weird hodge-podge marching band that looked like they were straight out of Sgt. Pepper. The man had a large round belly, yellow cloak and wizard's hat, a long yellow-whitish beard, and looked like some sort of odd summertime Santa Claus. He was wearing a shiny red and gold sash that proclaimed he was "The Mayor of Twiggy Eggnog".

He amplified his voice with his wand and said, "In the name of Queen Mab, it is time to celebrate the Cauldron of Avalon!"

The crowd cheered as I leaned over to Nudd and said, "Oh, I love parties!"

Nudd just smiled, "Me too… I think?"

"I'm being to think you were more help as a donkey, you know that?"

Mayor Goldfrapp scooped up some of the fountain's water with a large gold and bejeweled goblet. "And let us make a toast to our foreign visitors!"

"Thank you!" I said to the crowd and raised my glass, but Nudd just stood there.

The Mayor continued, "Because in the Book of Annwfn the Cauldron would never boil meat for a coward, whereas it would boil meat instantly for a brave and true witch. Because, of course, being a British cauldron- everything needs to be boiled, whether it's pottage, cabbage, or radishes!"

The crowd cheered some more.

"This seems to be a running theme to all these Cauldron's stories." I replied.

Mayor Goldfrapp smiled, "No need to worry... for you are a true and noble wizard are you not?"

"Oh, completely and absolutely!" I assured him.

The crowd cheered again and afterwards there was much singing, dancing, and drinking. Nudd and I went around and asked what happened to the Cauldron after it left the island, but nobody could remember. Finally, a rather soused-looking Gilly Mead vendor said, "I don't rightfully know, but you know who would? Thomas… the Lighthouse keeper. He's a little cranky but he's got the biggest library in town, that's for sure!"

Nudd quickly walked away from the party and I chased after him. I asked, "What's with the rush? You know it's rude to leave an English party without saying goodbye at least three times."

Nudd stared at the dark sea, "I'm not sure… but I know now that we need to find this cauldron… and fast."

We walked along the moonlit shore in silence and eventually reached the lighthouse. We pounded on a squeaky doorknocker on a large rusted metal door etched with a convoluted Celtic knot, but there was no reply.

I said, "Aloho-" and reached for my wand but then realized my it was still confiscated.

Nudd stepped up to the door, "Allow me…" and then just yanked the rusted door open and the lock broke.

I nodded. "That's one way, I suppose…"

Nudd and I climbed the spiral staircase and our footsteps echoed and reverberated around the walls. After quite a bit of walking, at the top, directly below the searching torchlight, we knocked on the door of a small room, and I yelled, "Hello? Anybody home?!"

The door opened a crack, and a tired and grisly old man in an odd patchwork of raggedy clothes harshly whispered, "Are you being followed?"

I looked around. "…possibly?"

He slammed the door shut. I yelled, "No, I'm just kidding! We're not being followed, if we were being followed, we wouldn't have come here!"

He slowly opened the door again, and seethed, "What do you two want?"

"I'm Gilderoy Lockhart and this is Auror Nudd Ludlow, and we are looking for a magical cauldron for the Ministry. We were told you might be able to help us?"

He let us in to his hodge-podge home and introduced himself. "Sorry, I don't get many… visitors… out here very often. My name is Wift, Tomas Wift."

We looked out his windows as the lighthouse's spotlight shone across the nighttime shore. Dark clouds, craggy rocks, and mist stretched as far as we could see, and off towards the horizon, strange orange lighting flashed for brief moment. It was slightly mesmerizing.

The old man heated up a pot of bland smelling tea and lit a few more candles. "Yes, it's quite beautiful, is it not?"

Nudd and I nodded, and I said, "Indeed. Forgive us we're sorry to intrude upon you at this late hour, but we were hoping that we might peruse your library to find any clues as to where the wizard Nicholas Flamel might have taken the cauldron once it left your lovely island."

He handed us a cup of perfectly boring tasteless tea, just the way a true brit likes it, and said, "Nobody knows, but I might have a few things that could lead you in the right direction."

He led us up another spiral staircase and showed us around his large ramshackle library, where there were so many books that they were stacked vertically in wobbly columns up to the vaulted ceiling. He waved his wand and lifted out some moldy worn tomes, and said, "You wouldn't believe what washes up out here. I have hand drawn copies of The Welsh Triads, _The Mabinogion,_ andBeauxwolf, all of which feature stories of magical cauldrons."

I believe I had read most of those as a schoolboy at Hogwarts, so I said, "Do you have anything from this millennium?"

He scratched his beard, "I have an original copy of the Black Book that Heinrich Cornelius Agrippa had worked on before he tried to kill Flamel. Oh, where is it?" He rooted around and pulled out a large manuscript with a black dragon-hide cover. "The interesting thing here is here… a map of England, and a riddle he learned from Flamel. Here it is-

' _The Red and White Queens_

 _dance together undead,_

 _The Cauldron lies below_

 _where no one dares tread.'_

"That's... it?" It wasn't much to go on.

"That's it." Tom said and shrugged.

I asked. "I'm curious, do you know if this is the same cauldron of Dyrnwch? Which may or may not be Morgan Le Fay's, or is it really Queen Mab's, or perhaps Herpo's, or even Hecate's? I've heard so many stories at this point they are all starting to blend together."

He laughed and replied, "Different people and stories, different languages and names, but now it really is all the same- It's the... Cryptic Cauldron!"

"Oh, I like that- The Cryptic Cauldron, sounds spooky, that's not copyrighted is it?"

"What's that? Copy write?" He scratched his head.

"Oh, never mind forget I mentioned it... but, um… remember _I_ coined it, got it? Anyway, what makes you so sure all these different legends are really the same Cauldron?"

"Before Morgan Le Fay hunted down Herpo-the-Foul, he had been already been going around stealing and forging all the magical Cauldrons together- some of which you might have heard of like Hecate's, but also other ones by witches you might not have heard of like Dadga's, Cerdiwen's, and any and all others he could get his scaly hands on."

"So that's why none of them have been seen individually for so long!" Nudd asked, looking like he had just found a long-lost piece of a forgotten puzzle.

He nodded, "Exactly… I wondered that too when a long time ago I was on a search for the Cauldron of Dadga. It was because Herpo had already found them all and merged them together at some point."

I replied, "That sounds like a lot of magic in one object."

He agreed, "Yes, that's why after Herpo died, even though it belonged to Dyrnwch, it kept bringing Herpo back, over and over. Morgan Le Fay killed Herpo over and over again as well. Six different times I believe. Eventually, she had to leave for Avalon with the rest of Camelot, so… she realized if she couldn't destroy Herpo, she would transfigure him into the very Horcrux that he used to keep himself alive, almost like a genie in a bottle, forcing him to then give his life for others forever."

"Wow, didn't see that one coming." I shivered a little. "Nudd, remind me to never mess with Morgan Le Fay."

Nudd nodded, and the librarian took a sip of tasteless tea. "…and because the Cryptic Cauldron couldn't go on to Avalon due to Queen Mab's protective spell, before Le Fay disembarked, she and Merlin hid the rest of the legendary Thirteen Treasures of Briton around the United Kingdom, and the Cauldron itself was hidden here on this very island."

I said, "It's all starting to make more sense now... I think. So how come it's not here anymore, and more importantly, where is it now?"

"Well, your first question is easier to answer than your second. First- years later when Nicholas Flamel came to this very island. He found and used the Cauldron in order to make the Philosopher's Stone."

"Really? I've never heard of that."

The librarian smiled, "Oh yes, didn't you ever wonder how he was able to do it, and no one else?"

I momentarily thought about my time at Hogwarts when I was trying to create my own Philosopher's Stone, and how difficult it was to transmute the different elements into something finer, something... purer.

I replied, "Hmm… so that's how he did it?!"

The old man nodded, "Yes... with the help of his wife, of course."

"So, then what? He made the stone, and that's that?" I asked, as Nudd just sat there like a frog on a log in a bog.

"Well, no. Not exactly, depending on who you believe, years later he made another, different stone, for his young wizard apprentice- H.C. Agrippa."

"I didn't know Flamel and Agrippa even knew each other." I replied.

"Well, of course! Flamel and Agrippa were the best of friends at some point, but then, wait... you don't know what happened?"

I thought about it for a second, "Let me guess, there's a woman involved."

"Ha, not just any woman! I mean, you do know who Perenelle, is don't you?" He asked, rather presumptuously too I might add.

"Of course... but remind me anyway." I said.

He raised his big caterpillar-like eyebrows, "Perenelle... Flamel? The famous wife of Nicholas Flamel? One of the greatest witches of the Mediveal era? Maybe of all time?"

I yawned, "Oh yes, of course. Who could forget Flamel had a wife?"

"Well, H.C. Agrippa couldn't, that's for sure." He looked around for some more old books, knocking up dust and frankly irritating my allergies and continued, "The three started out as the best of friends, nearly inseparable, running around and having all sorts of great adventures. But then Agrippa became jealous of Nicholas, and he wanted both Perenelle, and the Philosopher's Stone all for himself."

I said, "Since I've never heard any of this, I'm assuming it doesn't turn out that way?"

He nodded, and then sort of shook his head, and then kind of nodded again, "Well, the three of them did worked on a second Philosopher's Stone together, dubbed the Sorcerer's Stone by Agrippa himself, perhaps you've heard of it?"

I replied, "Of course."

He continued, "Well, they made this new stone but it doesn't work out quite right, something was off about how Agrippa mixed the elements and H.C. goes into a rage and blames Flamel for secretly sabotaging his Sorcerer's Stone, because he was jealous of his brand of ' _magick_ ' and that Perenelle really loved him instead. Agrippa tried to then kill Nicholas, but failed, and is believed to have perished in the battle."

"So, what happened to the Cauldron?" I asked all the good questions, Nudd was really absolutely no help at all.

He looked around the darkened windows out to the sea. "Well, after that, Flamel moved it from here and hid it, in case anyone like H.C. Agrippa tried to make another Philosopher Stone, and that's the last anybody knows about it. Coincidently or not, I believe after that, Flamel never tried to make another Philosopher's Stone again."

I sipped my warm tea slowly. "Did Flamel leave any clues besides that daft riddle?"

"No. But let me show you something that might help." He took out some more old dusty books and held up a scribbly old drawing of a snake eating its own tale. "These are some of the Alchemical notebooks that Flamel himself used. Are you familiar with this picture, the Chrysopoeia of Cleopatra?"

I looked closer. "That can't be good for you."

He held up some more pictures of spiraling serpents, "You familiar with any of these Ouroboros?"

I said, "Oh… yes, of course! But what… um, does this have to do with our cauldron?"

The old man looked indignant, "What does this have to do with the Cauldron? This is the Cauldron! Or I should say- this is a symbol of the Cauldron."

"I don't understand..." I said while Nudd just stared out the windows.

"Don't you know anything about Potions? Alchemy? One-the-All?" He seemed irritated, like he was running out of time or something.

"All-for-one, and one for all?" I asked.

He held up an ancient dirty and yellowed book, filled with dust. "No, no, no. Here do you recognize any of these images from the Book of Kybalion?"

"I... I... I..." I replied.

"Yes?" He asked holding the book closer to me.

"Achoo!" I sneezed, and the page turned to dust. I said, "I don't think so."

"Erm... wait here, last one." He was gone for a little while and when he returned he was carrying an armful of scrolls. He opened up a few and I could smell the parchment with its leathery smoke-y smell. One scroll had mostly Greek writing, with some runes sketched and translated. "Anything familar?"

I looked at them and sighed. "Not really."

He opened up another large scroll, this time in Gaelic script, with some drawings of various dolmens, along with Celtic knots, one of which was another snake eating its own tail. "What about this?" Nudd and I both shook our heads.

He held up another scroll, this time with Latin script. It had more runic translations, and this time there was the upside down-balloon rune.

"There it is! The upside-down balloon rune!" I pointed out to Nudd.

"Yes…" Nudd replied but didn't seem very surprised.

The old man pointed at it, "Stone the crows! Vikings didn't have balloons, you dim nitwit! This... is the Cryptic Cauldron!"

I turned my head upside-down, "Oh, yeah, now I see it."

Nudd finally spoke up. "I don't understand. Long before the Flamel stuff, why if Herpo-the-Foul had the Cauldron, why did he want to conquer Avalon in the first place?"

The librarian took a moment to think about it and looked around at all the books. "I suppose you could ask- why do men try to conquer any place? Who knows? Maybe having the cauldron actually fed his need for power rather than satiated it? Once he got away with killing Hecate, and stealing her cauldron, perhaps he felt he was unstoppable? Maybe the hole in his soul made it so nothing was ever enough to fill it up again and that's why he went around collecting cauldrons."

I said, "That's could be… or maybe he was just bored being immortal and wanted a hobby?"

Thomas looked anxiously out the window, "Yes… but, um, listen to me… I shouldn't be telling you this, but… you need to leave. Right now."

I said, "Well, I never!"

He looked frantic like he suddenly remembered the gas was on. "No… it's just that, you two need-"

There was a knock at the door.

Tom the librarian asked who it was, and when the voice replied that it was the Mayor, he immediately opened the door and said, "Oh hello, Mayor Goldfrapp! What are you doing here?"

The round yellow wizard said, "Hello Tom! Thank Goddess, you found our missing guests! We were so worried!"

I said, "No need to worry, we were just leaving-"

Nudd interrupted. "We were lost… on the beach… and we saw the lighthouse."

The mayor smiled, "Of course. Here, let me personally Apperate you back to town."

Nudd said, "Thanks for the tea, Tom" and the old librarian nodded. The Mayor, Nudd, and I all Apperated back to the center of town near the fountain where the party was still in full swing.

The mayor exclaimed, "Our new friends are back, safe and sound!"

Everyone cheered and was really happy to see us. We drank some more Gilly Mead as a hurdy-gurdy man droned on around the fountain (at least it wasn't a bagpipe) and people danced and cavorted all around us. And although I was clearly the best dancer there, I tried not to show off too much. OK, a little bit, it was a party after all. But, unfortunately, rather than looking like he wanted to dance, Nudd was hanging back nervously like a wallflower, just staring at the ground.

Walked away from the dancing crowd and I asked, "You alright, Nudd?"

It was then I realized he was looking down at the photo of Ariel I'd given him from before and he said, "What? Oh, yeah, fine..."

"You don't look like you want to party tonight…" I said trying to hide my disappointment that I wouldn't be living it up more, but I wasn't about to let Nudd out of my sight after all that searching, even for a little while.

"Oh, it's not that... I'm just tired... is all." He said and put away the photo.

As we started to leave, the mustard-coloured Mayor bounced over and said, "You can't leave, you are the guests of honor!"

"You heard that Nudd? The guests of honor!" I said.

"Oh, um... sorry, I'm just not feeling well tonight." Nudd did look pretty tired.

The Mayor just shrugged and jiggled his belly. "Alright, have a good night's sleep and we'll have the spring celebration tomorrow- you won't want to miss it!"


	19. Ch 18- May Day

Chapter 18-

May Day

The next morning, after Nudd and I woke up and ate some breakfast crumpets in the downstairs pub, I had the distinct feeling I just had a rather upsetting nightmare, but for the life of me I couldn't remember what it was. In any case, Nudd seemed to have woken up on the wrong side of the bed so we mainly sipped our tea in silence.

We heard drums and bagpipes being played outside the inn, and I crumbled my scone in my fist. "For Crom's sake- who would play bagpipes this early in the morning?"

Mayor Goldfrapp walked in with a smiling crowd of people and said, "Let the spring ceremony begin!"

The crowd cheered. Nudd didn't look too happy though. I said, "Come on Nuddy, don't be such a party pooper, it will be fun!"

"Oh, alright..." Nudd sighed.

We were led into the courtyard where the party from the night before looked like it never actually stopped. We celebrated all day with all sorts of traditional foods, drinks, and dances. I enjoyed the festivities and had a great time, and even Nudd looked like he cheered up a little.

Then Mayor Goldfrapp led the parade outside past the fountain and out beyond the stone wall entrance, near the maypoles before the large hill. He stopped the crowd and hushed the musicians, then shouted out, "It's Sunday, May first, perfect for the springtime ceremony!"

The crowd cheered and a troupe of performers came out and there was a show with a dance, of sorts, portraying a battle between two wizards, one was dressed up in white and blue colors with a snow man mask like Old Man Winter, and the other was dressed in the hues of spring with a deep green color, like a military uniform with different colored flowers on his costume resembling badges or metals of honor (petals of honor?) and he was wearing the leafy mask of the Green Man. They did a mock battle and eventually the Green Man defeated Old Man Winter, and the crowd cheered.

"How wonderful!" I exclaimed but Nudd was barely watching.

We were then personally led by Mayor Goldfrapp up a hill where there was a giant wooden man set up, with what looked like large horns on its head, so its silhouette appeared on the horizon like some sort of giant Viking or Minotaur.

The structure itself was comprised of all different kinds of tree limbs, branches, sticks, and twigs. Above the wooden man there was a large dark cloud of crows, ravens, and vultures swirling above in the sky. It seemed like the whole island was there, as well as all the different magical creatures including pixies, fairies, goblins, and even some trolls. Suddenly the surrounding crowd grabbed me and Nudd and we tried to fight them off, but without our wands they overpowered us. I yelled, "What's happening? Let me go, I thought we were the guests of honor?!"

They used _Relashio_ to tie us up, and Mayor Goldfrapp said, "Oh, but you are!"

The Mayor then put on the Green-Man mask, turned back to the crowd, and yelled, "Oh great and mighty Queen of the Air, we offer up to you these foreign invaders!"

I yelled, "I'm not foreign, I'm a true Anglo-Saxon Englishman, you stupid bloody wanker!"

The dark cloud swirled and undulated with hundreds of dark wings flapping (which is a rather frightening sound if you've never heard it) and the shrill chorus of birds echoed across the hillside. A loud bell began ringing, and men with painted blue faces brandished long, curved sticks that looked sort of like a giant's femur bone and began beating Irish drums, or bodhrans, that were decorated with blood red Celtic Knots.

The Mayor of Twiggy Eggnog exclaimed, "In the name of Queen Mab who bravely sacrificed herself unto the Morrigan, take revenge upon these savage invaders we offer unto you!"

I tried wriggling my hands free. "Does this suede double-breasted suit look savage to you? As Crom as my witness, you're the savages!"

The sounds of bodhrans and birds all grew louder as the sun began to set and turn a deep dark red. Mayor Goldfrapp, still in his Green Man mask, held up a large Viking sword and ignited it with his wand. The crowd oohed and awed, as the handle remained safe, but the blade of the sword went up in flames and stayed ignited. Mayor Goldfrapp waved the sword to the crowd, and all at once they began to sing the song the children were singing when Nudd and I first arrived in town-

"Svmer is icumen in

Lhude sing cuccu

Groweþ sed

and bloweþ med

and springþ þe wde nu

Sing cuccu..."

With the sword on fire, he began walking over to us in the giant wooden (Woden?) man, with a small procession behind him.

"No! Please! No!" I yelled at the crowd. "Have mercy! Have mercy!

The mob roared a deep ugly deranged cheer and time seemed to slow down. The human faces began to look more animalistic than the ones with actual animal masks. The mayor raised his hand and the crowd quieted to low murmur.

He shouted at the top of his lungs, "The law... is... word!"

The mob yelled back, "And the word... is... law!"

With his back to us, he raised the flaming sword high in the air, "And these barbarians have violated our law!"

The crowd gasped, booed, and threw rotting food. The shrieking of the birds had reached a fevered pitch, so Mayor Goldfrapp amplified his voice with his wand even louder and proclaimed, "Are we just going to let these foreign invaders from Pyrdain ravage our lands?"

The crowd roared, "No!"

"Are we going to let these savages take our farms, our money, our property?"

"No!" They roared louder, more in unison.

"Should we let them ransack our homes, our families, our women?"

"No!" They roared even louder.

"Should we let them destroy our sacred way of life, our precious history, our most cherished traditions?!"

"No!" They roared with furious eyes and foaming mouths until they looked almost like monsters. Their mouths and eyes bulged, and their skin turned green and scaly. Their necks began to spout gills, and that's when I thought about the Gilly Mead.

I turned to Nudd and whispered, "Of course, Gilly Weed turns humans into merfolk, but it also turns merfolk into humans." It also has the unfortunate side effect of long-term memory loss. Did these people even remember that they were originally from the sea? Did they think they were actually human? I suppose it didn't really matter now because the Mayor really had them all really worked up in a lather.

Mayor Goldfrapp took a long dramatic pause (a little too long if you ask me) and said, "Shouldn't Twiggy Eggnog have a right to protect itself?!"

"Yes!" The crowd roared in one demented voice.

He waved his flaming sword around. "Then… according to our honorable law set forth by the good folks of Twiggy Eggnog, on this day, May the First, in the name of Queen Mab, I hereby offer this official and notarized sacrifice to the Morrigan, may she bless and protect us all!"

The crowd cheered ecstatically and broke out in frenzy, and all began to make an odd grokking noise, not unlike the bucca from Berkley. Mayor Goldfrapp led them in a chant as he jumped around and did an awkward little jig, all the while singing, "Sacrifice! Sacrifice! Sacrifice!"

The crowd joined along in the repetitive yet catchy chorus of "Sacrifice!"  
and a large group of masked figures danced in a circle as the Bodhran drums began drumming again.

And then just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, some idiot started playing the bagpipes.

I shouted at the bagpipe player, "I'll get you and your little bagpipe if it's the last thing I ever do!"

Despite not being able to get my hands on the bagpipe player, I was able to wiggle my hands free and started to untie Nudd, but we were still trapped in the giant wooden structure. The Mayor waltzed up with the flaming sword and lit the kindling at the bottom of the wooden man. We climbed up inside the giant wooden man and away from the fire. The mayor yelled, "Hey, stop that! Die with some dignity for Crom's sake!"

We kept crawling up inside and made our way to the top, "No! I will not die with dignity!"

We were able to climb out on top of the wooden man's head but there was nowhere to go. I thought about jumping but at the last minute, there was a strange roar in the clouds like soft, distant thunder.

A second later, the large black Chapalu flew down out of the sky and scattered the dark cloud of birds.

"Look! It's the Cath Palug!" I yelled.

The crowd stopped singing and screamed in fear as the Chapalu flew down and Nudd and I jumped on its back. It dipped down and snatched the sword from the mayor. Then we flew back up in the air and escaped on the Chapalu as the townsfolk start chanting, "Sacrifice! Sacrifice! Sacrifice!" and turned on Mayor Goldfrapp himself.

He screamed, "What are you doing? No!"

He shouted in vain as they pushed him into the giant burning wooden minotaur man and ignited him with their own wands.

As Nudd and I flew away atop the Chapalu, I was so unimpressed with my own incredibleness, I didn't even bother to look back as the giant twiggy man burst into flames and a humongous fireball shot up into the air at least a hundred feet high.

Perhaps even higher.


	20. Ch 19- Twrch Trwyth

Part III

Chapter 19-

The Short Twisted Tale of Twrch Trwyth

Atop the chapalu, we flew back across the Sea of Angles like quicksilver and I flung Mayor Goldfrapp's flaming sword towards the eastern sea. As the broadsword sank, it bubbled and extinguished beneath the waves. We flew a little further and a large pod of kelpies tried to chase us, but we were too fast for them and sped away across the sky.

We arrived back on the Isle of Anglesee and got off the chapalu on the shore. When we got off, I patted kitty's back and said, "Thank you, that was amazing!"

Nudd said, "I wonder if it could fly us further south?"

I reminded him, "It's wings still look pretty rough, and if it leaves the Isle of Anglesee again, it could weaken even more."

The giant black-winged cat rubbed up against a large Dolmen. I walked up and petted the cat and it started purring. I said, "I keep thinking it reminds me of something... with its large eyes and long black tail- I know who the cat reminds me of- It's Felix! Felix-the-cat! Little black cartoon kitty, does magic? There's an evil scientist that's always trying to steal his bag of tricks? Come on, don't tell me you've never heard of Felix-the-cat?"

Nudd began to look around nervously. "Um...I'm not sure."

"Also does cute Charlie Chaplin impressions?" I stuck my finger beneath my nose like it was a large moustache, and then used the wand as a cane and did my best Chaplin walk.

Nudd just stared, "Ha, oh yeah, sure, now I remember... " He gave a fake smile. I realized I didn't even know if Nudd had any Muggles in his family, but maybe he's never even watched Muggle TV or seen a Muggle film, maybe he was from a family of "pure-bloods", he does seem a little old-fashioned, and I didn't know much about his family other than he was something like a fourth or fifth-generation Auror.

The Cath Palug stretched and then jumped up and flew away into the mist and clouds. I said, "Goodbye Felix, thanks!" and I could have sworn I heard a "Bye-bye" that sounded like "Mye-mye".

Afterwards, Nudd and I traveled back through the Forest Sauvage, over the Sea of Angles bridge, and into Wales again. We discussed the riddle, and Nudd said, "Well, it's about Red and White queens, so maybe it involves Buckingham Palace?

I replied, "The idea of having to break in and steal something from Buckingham is rather nauseating for any true Englishman."

Nudd nodded, "Yeah, I suppose you are right, I can't see Flamel doing that."

I replied, "But maybe... you are on the right track, maybe there's something in London. Maybe at the Tower of London?"

"That's actually not a bad idea considering how Bran Blesid was once beneath the Tower of London, and there's plenty of legends involving the London Bridge!" Nudd said, genuinely smiled for once, and actually looked almost upbeat. I could see how he was naturally drawn towards the idea of a big mystery, and how passionate he must had been about his work.

I replied, "So, looks like we are off to see Big Ben then?"

Nudd finally looked up from staring at his feet and he said, "Weirdly enough, I... I don't think so. I almost feel like I've searched London with Auror Self many times before."

I asked, "Well, maybe we should check just in case, do you think we can find a fireplace and use the Floo network?"

I was pretty sure I already knew the answer, but Nudd took the bait and perked right up, "Floo network?! Are you crazy, the Ministry will be monitoring it, and if you say there's spies, then we need to avoid it."

I said, "Oh, of course... what was I thinking?" So, the Ministry can really track the Floo Network, I thought to myself.

Nudd just chuckled and patted me on the back, "It's alright, I've had years of experience, it's best if we keep a low profile and just use muggle forms of transportation."

"Alright, you're the expert." I said.

He smiled and said, "That's right, don't you forget it!"

Nudd seemed to be in a slightly better mood as we continued traveling back towards England, and we took a muggle bus across Snowdonia, as a lovely little blooming lilac (my favorite colour) landscape with the peak of Cedair Idris was off in the distance.

I said, "Strange how it's always so much quicker going back, isn't it?"

Nudd agreed, and we got off the bus to eat at the No Name Pub. Nudd thought he might have recognized some Ministry men in town, so we headed back out of town and walked through the forest for the rest of the day. We each talked a little about our childhoods (both his parents were magical), our respective times at Hogwarts (Professor Snape was apparently as stuck-up as a freshman as he was an upper classman), and the beginning of our careers- him as a researcher in the Department of Mysteries, usually referred to as a "Mystery Man", and I caught Nudd up on my recent adventure to find him, including all the drama with Sabrina and the Death-Eaters.

After a while he seemed quiet. I asked, "You alright, Nudd?"

He nodded and smiled but I could tell something was bothering him, then I realized it was Monday already and I hadn't told him everything yet, so I took a deep breath and asked myself, "Would I want to know?" and I decided yes, even if it was something terrible I would rather know than not know. So, after walking along the Kingsroad all day, I took a long look at the bleeding sunset, and said, "Look Nudd, there's something I need to tell you."

He looked at me with a strange expression. "I... I think... I think I know what you are going to say... sort of, at least, I mean... I have a feeling something... bad happened and that's why I was really after the cauldron."

He then turned and looked at the dark encroaching sky. "We are obviously not going to find a place to sleep tonight, so let's set up camp first, and while we eat you can... you can tell me... everything."

I said, "Fair enough..."

We searched around and fortunately were able to find an Elderberry tree. We broke off a couple of branches and whittled down some twigs to make some makeshift wands. We practiced a few basic spells with our newfound wands like we were a couple of mages of old. I exclaimed, "They are certainly not as powerful as one of Ollivander's, but they'll have to do!"

We continued to practice with our Elderberry wands, and wandered off the Kingsroad for a little bit to avoid any highwaymen or robbers. We eventually found an overgrown trail that led to a small clearing where traveled a little ways away and set up camp.

We heated up our food which was a mix of local black walnuts, crabapples, mushrooms, and some snark-jerky (don't worry, it was imitation snark-meat). I used the Gemino charm, which, unfortunately, only works once on food before it loses any consistency, then we tossed the chopped up all the food into a pot and boiled it, like any true Englishmen.

We ate our stew for a bit in relative silence, unless you count the insects and owls, until Nudd smiled and said, "This reminds me of when Will Self and I first became partners, and we started going on stakeout. We didn't really know what we were doing, and after a few hours we'd eat just about anything we could find, steal, or conjure up. I don't even want to tell you what we had to do when we had to go the bathroom..." He laughed, and smiled into the flickering flames of the fire pit, "Those were good times..."

The way he said it, clued me in that it was time for the truth, "Look, I need to tell something's that might upset you, so I'm just going to spill the beans, Ok?"

"Alright." Nudd nodded, "I understand."

"About seven months ago, you and Self were investigating a case involving a group of Death Eaters who were searching for the Cauldron of Dyrnwch. You remember the part about going undercover and being tortured. The thing was… when you went back home to Bristol, something happened to your wife Ariel-"

Nudd's eyes went wide, and he "shushed" me with his finger pressed to him lips.

"Excuse me?" I said indignantly, "I'm just getting to the juicy part-"

"Shut up-" He said and first pointed to his ear, then to the forest. I noticed all the crickets had gone quiet. At first it sounded almost like thunder or a low rumble in the distance, but as I listened more closely I could just barely make out the sound of yelling, shouting, and laughing.

I leaned over and whispered, "What is that?"

Nudd pulled out his wand, and whispered back, "I don't know... but we're about to find out."

We quietly covered our fire with some dirt, and slowly crept towards the source of the sounds. Scuttling from tree to tree, eventually we made our way to a secret coven of Death-Eaters and half-giants in the forest. I could see that they had one of the silver haired baby giant boars I released from the Crystal Castle. It was all tied up, and the Death-Eaters and half-giants were getting ready to kill and cook it. A red-haired giant laughed, "We're sure going to eat good tonight!"

The Death-Eaters were all drinking and smoking and they all laughed as well, but one Death-Eater who was not drinking or smoking, stood up, "But what if the Mother comes back? She might not be so easy to catch."

The red-haired giant laughed some more, "Let her come back, we'll feast like kings!"

The other giants cheered, and the rest of the Death-Eaters laughed again. I looked at the giant baby boar tied up in chains. "We can't just let them eat it." I whispered.

Nudd whispered, "I think you're right, it is a Fantastical Creature, and they are protected under the Ministry's jurisdiction. But how are we going to stop them? I can't just say- stop, you're all under arrest."

"I don't know just yet." I looked around for a plan, "Kind of reminds me of the story of Twrch Trwyth."

"If I remember correctly, wasn't he a giant that was turned into a boar?" Nudd said.

"So, this boar is really the descendant of a giant and those giants don't even care?" I replied, "Hunger takes precedent over heritage, I suppose."

Nudd said, "What if we create a distraction and then free the boar?"

I nodded, "What are you thinking?"

Nudd paused then said, "What if I head over behind that hill over there and then launch some fireworks or something in the other direction..."

I added, "...then I can put a sleeping spell on any Death-Eaters staying back with the boar..."

Nudd smiled, and I could tell he was getting a little excited, "... and if we create a Portkey now, I can teleport back to you at camp, the Minstry can't track Portkeys as well as the Floo Network."

I nodded, "There I can put an Obfuscation spell on our camp to make it Unmappable."

He laughed, "Brillant, maybe in another life we could have been partners."

I laughed as well, "Who knows, maybe we already were?"

I could then see that fighting the good fight was really what motivated Nudd even more than a mystery. We settled on my stopwatch as his Portkey, and he nodded then said, "You ready?"

As the seconds ticked by in the darkness, I took a deep breath and said, "...as I'll ever be."

He counted off down from three and then ran off into the night. I waited a little while then saw the fireworks off in the distance. All the Death-Eaters' and half-giants froze for a second, then all stood up at once, grabbed their wands and weapons and headed off into the direction of the pyrotechnics. There were only a couple of Death-Eaters that stayed behind, and they just waited at the edge of the camp for the rest to come back. One Death-Eater said, "Oy! How come we always got to stay behind?"

The other one added, "Yeah! And how come we always got to stay up for the late shift and keep watch?"

As I snuck over to the boar, the first Death-Eater said, "You know what it is, don't you? It's all bloody politics, it is! It's all, who you know, and who knows You-Know-Who!"

As Nudd shot some more fireworks a little further away, I crawled near the boar and pet it, and whispered, "Shhh... It's alright." Then whispered, "Relashio" on the chains, and I was grateful that Nudd had set off a few more fireworks to cover the sound of the shackles releasing.

The second Death-Eater nodded, "That's right, that's right! Can you believe I've never ever seen You-Know-Who? I mean, you think he could show up for just, like, one meeting or something! He made us all get that bloody Dark-Mark, and I couldn't use my arm for a week in was in so much pain, and he didn't even have the decency to even show up once!"

As I snuck away with the boar, the first Death-Eater just shook his head, "Politics, mate! It's always bloody blooming politics!"

When I turned around there was drunken Half-Giant stumbling back to his camp, which from the smell, I assumed was after he fell into a pile of his own waste.

He was using his fingers to comb the vomit out of his beard and he looked up and saw me there leading the boar away.

Before he could do anything, I whispered, "Stupify" and then immediately "Wingardium Levisoar" so he wouldn't crash and make a loud racket. The giant flew back as he lost consciousness, and then stopped in mid-air just a few millimeters above the ground and lightly bounced back up like a balloon.

I snuck away back to our camp with the baby boar, and I set up a protective charm. I took out my stopwatch and put it on a small tree stump we were using a hodge-podge table, and a few minutes later Nudd popped out. He was apparently still running when he touched the Portkey, and he tripped and fell on the ground.

He was wheezing and gasping for breath.

I grabbed him, "Nudd! Are you alright?"

When he rolled over, he burst out laughing, "Oh man! You should have seen it! I'll have those Death-Eaters chasing their own tracks all night long."

"Oh yeah?" I asked.

He smiled, "How'd you do?"

We had apparently caught a case of the giggles as I filled him in on the details, and he laughed so hard he was almost crying. Eventually we got a hold of ourselves and we calmed down for a bit. He looked over at the silver haired boarlet and asked, "Do you think it can be turned back into human?"

"There's only one way to find out." I said.

We tried transforming the boar back but it didn't work. I said, "I believe Professor Gobcrackle once said offspring of the transformed are completely and totally animals, and aren't human anymore and can't turn back into something they never were."

"Well maybe it's for the best." Nudd replied and petted its hair.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

He looked back towards the direction of the Death-Eater camp and said, "Maybe the human world is too cruel, too… vicious for them. The laws of the animal world are simple, the human one... not so much."

We looked at the tangled, matted, and shaggy-haired boar rutting at the base of an old rotten Elderberry tree. He patted the boarlet, "In any case, I always did enjoy the story of King Arthur and Twrch Trwyth, it was one of my favorites as a child."

I asked, "Oh yeah, why's that?"

Nudd watched the giant baby boar ruffle up some truffles, and smiled, "My father was an Auror, like his father, and his father before him. He was a great father, but he wasn't always around since was often working long hours, both days and nights, along with having to travel a lot. But whenever possible, he would always tried to put me to bed and read me King Arthur stories."

"How nice." I said and packed away the truffles for later.

Nudd's smile faded just a bit, "Yes, it one of my favorite times with my father, just me and him. I miss him a lot."

I knew where this was going but I wasn't going to try and stop it. Nudd paused for a moment, "Death-Eaters killed him when I was just thirteen years old."

"I'm so sorry, that's horrible..." I said, I tried to think of more I could say, but there are sometimes, believe it or not, that words even fail me, so we just sat in silence for a while, watching the boarlet roll around in the dirt.

Then strangely enough, Nudd started chuckling.

"What?" I replied.

He said, "Nothing, it's nothing, I just remembered the reason why the story was my favorite... because of how weird it was."

"How so?" I asked.

He had this faraway look, "I mean, the ending is unlike any of the other King Arthur stories in that he doesn't just kill the boar in the end, and the way he defeats it by, of all things, using a pair of magical scissors to trim its long hair?!"

Nudd began to laugh and it was good to hear him not be so serious for once and I thought maybe he would be alright after all. I asked, "Did you say Magical Scissors?"

"Yeah, and I think there was a brush and razor as well." He said, still smiling.

"Just wait a Crom-darned minute here..." I pulled out my magical coin purse from Granny Yaga and reached in and after a few unsuccessful attempts, I finally pulled out the pair of silver scissors, comb, and blade I had seen earlier.

I walked over to the boarlet and rubbed its belly, "We are going to get you all trimmed up!" I trimmed away the boarlet's manged knots, and as the fur fell in tangled clumps, swarms of Doxies scuttled away. The boar looked relieved. I took out my very own special blends of shampoo and conditioner and washed its hair. When I was done, it seemed pretty happy. I trimmed away the excess hair hanging down in front of its eyes. When I did, I could see it actually had three eyes, but the middle eye remained closed, and from the side-view you couldn't even see it.

Nudd took a look and said, "Not bad."

The "little" giant, furry, silver striped, and spotted warthog grunted happily. We then walked the boar a little further away and it ran away into the dark forest, away from the Death-Eater camp.

As we said goodbye, it reminded me of the winged boar statues outside Hogwarts, which for the life of me, I can never remember their names.


	21. Ch 20- The Gingerbread House

Chapter 20-

The Gingerbread House

All that night we waited for the Death-Eaters and half-giants to come looking for us, but Nudd must have really had mixed them up because they never came back. The next morning, we woke up and couldn't find any tracks almost as if they were never there in the first place.

We ate a small breakfast of oats and eggs, while I filled Nudd in on most of what I knew about him being "early-retired" from the Ministry. He said, "I don't understand. Will and I were so close to nabbing Slipher. What... what happened?"

I said, "Not sure since it's classified, and unfortunately the Ministry hasn't been completely forthcoming to the public. However... there's something else I need to tell you."

He looked at me. "It's about Ariel isn't it, something's... wrong with her, isn't it?"

I looked him in the eyes. "Sadly, yes… a little later, Ariel was apparently attacked, tortured, and… Obliviated."

He just listened in silence, spinning and twisting his wand, then looked up. "So... what does that mean... isn't there some sort of cure?"

I looked him in the eye. "Well, right now she's at St. Mungo's receiving the best care possible."

He looked back down at his wand, then he stopped spinning it, and grabbed it and held it so tight like he was going to snap in half, and said, "Oh... I see."

"I'm sorry, there's no known cure for Oblivated memories. That's probably why a few weeks later, you then went looking for the Cauldron, even though it was just a legend."

He nodded. "And that's when I disappeared..."

I put my hand on his shoulder to comfort him. "Yes, now I've been able to piece together pieces of your story and bits of your journey, but I'm still not exactly sure when, or how, you wound up at that Lady of Lake who turned you into a donkey."

He looked like he was going to cry, and he took a deep breath, then said, "Now I know, and I'm glad you told me about Ariel."

I did the only thing I could in that situation; I gave Nudd a hug and said, "I'm sorry."

It seemed to help a little bit, and he said, "Thank you..."

We packed up camp and continued walking through the Forest Sauvage in relative silence, after a while, he sort of chucked and shrugged. "I can't believe I was a donkey…"

I laughed and replied, "It's alright, Professor Snape once turned me into a toad in potions class."

Nudd smiled, and I hoped it helped relieve his worry.

We continued walking and the fact that Nudd knew the truth seemed to help his usually pensive mood. Eventually Nudd asked about other news, and I filled him in on the whole Boy-Who-Lived business. Nudd laughed, "Seriously... after all that, a... little bitty baby defeats him?"

I nodded, "It's true!"

Nudd laughed some more, "Come on... a baby? Now I know you're pulling my leg!"

I tried to make a straight face. "I know, I know... sounds made up, right? Now all the Death-Eaters are on the run or gone underground and the Ministry is back to normal, erm... more or less."

Nudd looked away. "It's hard to believe that one child did all that..."

"A gosh-darned miracle, it was." I said, as I noticed some dirt being dusted up in the distance.

He looked around. "So, what's happening at the Ministry now?"

I shrugged. "Not much, most Aurors are mainly hunting down old Death-Eaters. Auror Self has got a new partner now and supposedly they are closer than ever to catching Slipher, it was in the Daily Prophet and everything. But mainly things have gone back to being peaceful again, now there's not a war to fight."

Nudd must have saw the car first, and recognized it and he said, "Well, speak of the devil himself..." Because guess who comes driving down the dirt road in a mustard-colored '79 Talbot Avenger and pulls up in front of us? None other than Auror Will Self, er... himself!

Auror Smith was driving, and Self hopped out of the passenger side and shouted, "Nudd? Nudd Ludlow, is that you?!"

Auror Self ran over and gave him a big hug. If there was animosity between these two, Auror Self did an amazing job of hiding it as his eyes welled up. Will and Nudd started laughing, as Auror Smith stepped out of the car and walked over to me, and said, "I can't believe you were telling the truth…"

I nodded, "Do your eyes deceive you?"

She smiled and touched my arm, and my heart stopped, and she said, "I guess not."

As Nudd and Auror Self walked over, I tried to mentally re-start my heart and swallowed (more than breathed) a gulp of air. Nudd and Self were getting each other caught up on recent events, and Auror Self told him, "We tried finding Vesto Slipher for months, and went undercover but kept getting the run around. Eventually we find out that Slipher is really the alias of somebody connected to Bellatrix Lestrange. This person has been setting up deals with dark beasts who support the Dork-Lard."

I laughed, "Ha ha, Dork-Lard, that's a good one!"

Auror Self just stared at me as his elf-rolled baccy hung from his lip. He clearly was not impressed I was able to find Nudd and he wasn't. I said, "So... what about the article I read by Rita Skeeter? Are you really closer to arresting them?"

Auror Self smiled, "Not really, it's just the 'official' story to throw off the perps, hoping they'll leave town or slip up."

Nudd laughed, "MLE (Magical Law Enforcement) does it all the time, if we didn't, criminals would be able to stay two steps ahead of us."

Auror Self pulled out his keys and said, "There's a Gingerbread house not far from here we can use."

I asked, "A what?"

Nudd said, "That's what we call hidden Magical Safe-Houses in the forest."

Auror Smith said, "We hide former Death-Eaters who have had turned against the Dark Lord out here till we can move them. We set them up with a whole new name, new life, new face-"

Auror Self chucked, "New memories..."

Agent Smith and Nudd looked at each other, and I asked, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Auror Self said, "We used it when we were going undercover and needed to throw off a witch who was using Legilimency. We would re-use the memories from old Pensieves."

I asked how that worked and Nudd replied, "It's kind of like a memory of acting in a play, they are 'real' to an extent but not completely, that way if an advanced Legilimens were to go snooping, or if an Auror is under the influence of a potion like Veraserum they would technically have a 'memory' of the false experience to throw any interrogation them off the trail."

Auror Smith stepped forward, "It's not something the Ministry really likes to discuss."

"I'm picking up on a theme.' I said.

We all squished inside the small Talbot Avenger. Auror Smith was on the driver's side and she nodded towards Auror Self. "He's not allow to drive..."

Auror Self groined, "Oy! One crash-"

Ruby Tuesday blasted out of the speakers as she peeled out on the dirt road and left a cloud of dust hanging in the air. She drove into the forest for a while as Auror Self gave her directions. After a few miles we pulled off on an overgrown side trail where the cramped smelly Talbot Avenger barely fit, and the branches kept whacking into the windscreen. Eventually, we drove up to a large random oak tree, and Auror Self said, "This is it..."

We all got out and walked between some overgrown spruce pines, past a random old gas lamppost, and around a bend, where there was another small clearing with a little circle of stones on the ground.

Auror Self walked up and said, "Solamen miseris-"

And Nudd finished, "-socios habuisse doloris."

A log cabin magically appeared, complete with a circular wooden door. We walked in and it was even bigger on the inside as it opened up into a large double-story cabin. I walked over to the kitchen and there were plenty of bottled drinks and frozen foods, and the pantry was stocked with all sorts of snacks, chips, and canned foods. Next to the fireplace there was a radio, some board games, and a record player. Unfortunately, the records were all by bands like Joy Division, The Damned, and P.I.L. –all terrible and completely unlistenable stuff. Nudd walked over and played "Love Will Tear Us Apart". He then looked up and said, "I vaguely remember staying here... listening to this."

Auror Self said, "We've been here many times before."

Nudd shook his head, "No… this is… recent."

"Really? Remember anything else?" I asked.

Nudd sat in silence listening for a while, and then said, "There was a Pensieve here, maybe it was… mine. Or Ariel's? I can't remember but I remember bringing one here. But I don't see it around here anymore…"

Nudd then stared at Auror Self, "I also remember that there were rumors about Will and my wife-"

Auror Self said, "Nudd, please understand-"

Nudd interrupted, "...but I never believed them for a second."

After an awkward silent moment, Auror Smith looked up and said, "This is the sort of things the Dark Lord did- he sowed paranoia, doubt, and distrust among the closest allies and staunchest friends. That was how he really succeeded defeating the Ministry, by rotting it from the inside."

Nudd and I then told them all about Twiggy Eggnog and the story of Herpo-the-Foul teaming up with Fomorians to try and raid Avalon from Queen Mab.

"Fomorians, huh?" Auror Smith gave me a slight look and then said, "Weird..."

"Why's that?" I asked.

Auror Smith brewed up a pot of tea, and said, "The reason why it was so hard to defeat the Fomorians was that supposedly the wind would carry their name to them, and whenever someone started talking about them- good, bad or otherwise, they would listen in."

I asked, "But what does that have to do with The Dark Lord?"

Auror Self slammed his fist down, "Sod this!" and stomped away.

Auror Smith leaned in. "The Ministry believes that You-Know-Who learned how to listen to the winds from a Fomorian spell book, which is why, officially, the Ministry doesn't say his name out loud."

I laughed, "That's why?!"

Auror Smith smiled wanly, "Something else the Ministry doesn't like to discuss."

Auror Smith poured us some tea and as we sipped it, I walked over and perused some books on a dirty book case and saw that there's was the two famous versions of Dr. Faustus. One was The Tragical History of the Life and Death of Doctor Faustus by Christopher Marlowe, and the other was a play made two hundred years later by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe- Faust, Part I and II.

Auror Smith walked closer, "You a fan of Dr. Faustus?"

I replied, "Well, I'm a fan of the original by Marlow, of course. Not the knock-off that came later."

She smiled, "So... you don't like Goethe's story?"

"It's not that I don't like the story, the plot is fine. It's just, I believe that authors shouldn't recycle characters from another story. That is surely the lowest form of writing."

"Oh?" She flipped through Goethe's version.

I got a little heated. "Yes! I believe that the creator of the characters should be the only one that writes them, and not every Tom, Dick, and Harry that comes along later. Authors should try to be original, not... plagerize!"

"I see." She said, and laughed and touched my arm again, and I forgot what we were even talking about.

I looked back at the bookshelf and took out Marlow's version. I said, "Yeah, so... I love books, but do they have to always have so many words?"

"Of course!" Smith smiled and picked out a worn copy of B. Traven's The Death Ship and she said, "Oh, this is a good one too."

I flipped through some other books. "Never heard of it, but the cover does look interesting. Do you like to read?"

She had a twinkle in her eye, "Oh, yes... I love books. My father once owned a magical bookshop in Diagon Alley, so I had tonnes of books growing up."

She picked up a magical reference book from the shelf, flipped through some pages and I saw some Alchemy symbols, one of which is a snake eating its own tail, and next to it was a scribble of the Cryptic Cauldron rune in black ink.

I called Nudd over and showed him the runic alchemy symbol and said, "Remember the librarian showing us these?"

Nudd's eyes went wide when he looked at the crude doodle. "This is my drawing..."


	22. Ch 21- The Last Fomorian

Chapter 21-

The Last Fomorian

That evening, we all ate an uneventful dinner while Nudd and Self told old stories, and later each of us went to sleep in small but cozy rooms. In the morning, I woke up to some of the best sleep I've had in quite a while. I went downstairs and Auror Self was making a pot of coffee, while Nudd and Smith drank tea. Nudd looked freshly shaven and smiled, and I was glad that he was doing better. I said good morning to Nudd and Smith, and Nudd handed me a proper wand. I thanked him and said, "This looks much better than that twig I was using."

"Hello, " said Auror Smith as she continued her magical crossword while the rows and columns shifted around on her month old copy of the Daily Prophet.

I then looked at Auror Self who was still in his undershirt and boxer shorts, smoking an Elf-rolled cigarette and pouring a cup of black coffee, and I said, "Just terrible... no self-respecting Englishman would ever drink coffee over tea.

Auror Self scratched himself. "That's good, because I'm no self-respecting Englishman..." and belched loudly.

I said, "Could you please smoke that outside?"

Auror Self stared for a second and then said, "Wah-wah-wah! Little baby mandrake!"

While Nudd joined Auror Self outside, Auror Smith leaned over and whispered "Listen to me... I don't have much time, but I secretly work for Internal Affairs Office of the Ministry and began watching Will Self after Nudd's retirement. After Nudd disappeared, I was assigned to him as a partner."

I was all ears. "I see..."

"Apparently they were close to nabbing some high-ranking Death-Eaters that might be spies in the Ministry itself. However, some higher ups didn't like what they were digging up, so they shut them down, said they would handle it. But Nudd wouldn't let up and was fired. But my boss still wants to know if there are still spies in the Ministry, and if Will Self might actually be one of them."

"I had no idea this case went this deep." I said, scratching my head, while I contemplated this new piece of information. Nudd's case was like a puzzle with no edges and the pieces weren't fitting together, it was just expanding further and further out. We heard voices from outside, and Auror Smith whispered, "Keep in mind Auror Self may be controlled by Death-Eaters without him even knowing it."

"Well, do you trust Auror Self?" I asked and looked her in the eyes.

"Hmm, I... do, I think, yes, strangely enough." She said.

"What about the Cauldron? Do you believe in it?" I asked.

She thought for a moment, then said, "As a child, my Father would tell me the stories about the cauldron were true…"

She looked away, and I said, "It's alright, I understand. My grand-father used to dress up like Santa."

She looked back, resolute, "But now it doesn't matter if I believe in it... it only matters if the Death-Eaters believe it's real, and what they are willing to do for it."

I said, "What do you mean? Of course it matters, it affects your every decision, doesn't it? Whether it really is out there, or isn't?"

She looked back at me, "I don't know, maybe..."

Suddenly, we heard explosions outside. I looked outside the window and I could see Death-Eaters shooting spells from behind trees as Nudd and Self were shooting back. Auror Self yelled, "We can't stay here! Somebody must have found out!"

Nudd and Self ran back into the cabin, and Nudd said, "We need to go now!"

We grabbed our wands and ran out the back door, when we did, a group of Death-Eaters and half-giants surrounded us, and there was one giant that twice the size of the other giants and trolls.

I stepped forward. "Can't we all discuss this like gentlemen-"

A barrage of curses came flying towards me, and I rolled out of the way as Self, Nudd, and Smith fired back, and stupefied a small group to the left.

"It's a Fomorian!" Auror Self shot a spell towards a giant that was at least twice as big as the other giants, and kept picking off the Death-Eaters, if I didn't know any better it almost seemed like he was enjoying himself.

Then, out of literally nowhere, a Death-Eater jumped out and pinned Auror Self to the ground. Nudd was blasted back, and I look over to see that Auror Smith was already being held hostage.

I yelled out, "I'm confused! I had a deal with Slipher! Why are you attacking us?"

Auror Self looked up, "Wait? You had a deal with Slipher?"

"Well, sort of, to get Sabrina back." I said. "Didn't I already tell you all this?"

Auror Self thought for a second, "Oh yeah, I forgot I really don't listen when you talk."

"Shut up!" Roared the large ginger-haired giant who looked like the one from the other night in the forest.

Auror Smith put her wand down on the ground, "Let's all do this nice and easy..." and then rolled into a summersault, pulled out a small wand hidden in her boot, and blasted a nearby Death-Eater. She held them off to let myself, Nudd, and Auror Smith escape, then followed behind us while we tried to provide cover for her.

As the deep reverberating stomps continued, Auror Self laughed and yelled, "Want some more?" and blasted some more Death-Eaters. Nudd and I took out the other three or four Death-Eaters.

Suddenly, everything was quiet, and then the giant stonking Fomorian stomped out of the woods. And I do mean stonking, for he was at least twice the size of a regular giant, and, rather oddly, he has a closed third eye in the middle of his forehead, with blue paint swirled around it similar to the windmills from Twiggy Eggnog.

He tried to stomp me, but I rolled out of the way at the last second. Nudd, Self, and I tried using all our usual spells but nothing worked. The giant tried to punch Self, but he moved out of the way at the last second, however, in doing so, the giant smashed the tree behind him, and the tree came crashing down. Auror Self was pinned downed by the branches and was nearly impaled, with his wand lying a few feet away in the mud. Nudd tried to shoot a spell at the giant's third eye but was slapped back and he landed a few meters away with a thud.

"Nudd!" I ran over to him and he wasn't moving.

I stood in front of a barely breathing Nudd, and tried to cast as many spells as I could at the giant, but still nothing worked. The red-haired giant turned to me and opened his third eye, and it shot a beam of light towards me. It razed the ground, leaving small smoldering craters and bushes on fire with burning embers floating in the air in the air around us. At the last second, I feel myself being pushed out of the way to see Auror Smith take the blast herself.

"No!" I yelled but it was too late, for in the blink of an eye, Auror Smith had turned to dust.

It was hard to believe, but just like that, she was gone forever.

Then, right before the beam of light moved towards me again, I heard the words- "Adva Kavara!"

And the giant stopped, frozen-like, his Eye-of-Fire closed, and he fell flat onto the ground, completely dead.

Someone must have used the unforgivable curse. Was it Auror Self? I wondered if that was allowed by the Ministry as a last resort? Nudd, Self, and I looked around at each other but none of us said anything. I noticed Auror Self didn't even have his wand, it was still lying on the ground a few feet away from him.

When the dust settled, standing behind the enormous, deceased, and possibly last Fomorian ever, were Vesto Slipher and Franz Zwicky in their gold and sliver masks, with their wands raised towards the giant's now lifeless body.

The gold smiling skull mask turned to Nudd, and said, "Well, a 'thank you' would be nice!"

"You... you killed him?" Nudd looked at the giant lying motionless on the ground, "Wasn't he was on your side?"

The frowning silver skull pointed his wand at me, "Yes, it's tragic, isn't it... and unless you want the same to happen to you, I suggest you put your wands down and your hands up!"

When I turned around, I saw Nudd and Auror Self being held hostage by the smiling Death-Eater.

Auror Self smiled an ironic grin, "Slipher and Zwicky, at long last we meet. I was being to doubt your existence, but your reputation certainly precedes you."

"Well, I hope you aren't too disappointed!" Slipher laughed, and gave a small bow. "What do you think?"

Auror Self smiled again, "Honestly... I thought you'd be a little taller."

Slipher laughed. "Oh, good one! But as you know it's not the size of the wand, it's who wields it!"

"Oh goody... then I don't have to worry." Auror Self took a drag from his cigarette.

Slipher's smiling gold skull seemed to float in the darkness. "Perhaps I should take this moment to impress you with a little bit more than just my stature."

"He said it, not me!" I pointed out.

"Oh yeah, let's see it!" Auror Self yelled out.

I yelled, "No! Let's not see-"

Slipher and Zwicky both took a step back, aimed their wands at us, and screamed, "Cruciatus!"


	23. Ch 22- The Red and White Queens

Chapter 22-

The Red and White Queens

I woke up on the ground in the dirt with all the bugs and grubs of the Forest Sauvage crawling around me. I saw the dawn's crepuscular rays illuminating the campfire smoke as it drifted lazily up into the green canopy. I realized that my hands were tied behind my back and my neck was killing me.

An upside-down smiling gold mask stood over me, and said, "So... how do you like your eggs?"

I got an odd feeling of Déjà vu and groggily replied, "Sunny-side up, of course."

He cracked the egg on the side of a pan, "Really? You sure you don't prefer them... scrambled?"

I sighed, "We know it's you Slipher... you don't need the mask anymore."

The head dropped down, "Aww, but it's more fun this way! But alright... since the gig is already up."

He removed the mask, and he looked like the drawing from the Daily Prophet. It was indeed Vesto Slipher in the flesh, and he said, "Is this any better?"

Auror Self said, "Honestly, I prefer the mask..."

Slipher smiled, "Nasty, nasty! And after I was so courteous as to inform the local Death-Eaters that it was you who killed the last Fomorian-"

"What?! We didn't do that!" I said.

He chuckled, "Now, now, you doth protest too much. And now any giant, creature, or human in the Dark Coalition is going to hunt you down and kill you... unless you do what we say!"

Oddly, Auror Self was the first to speak, "Fine, we don't really have a choice now do we?"

Slipher smiled again, "Well, as a student of philosophy, I'd like to think we always have a choice, now don't we?"

Auror Self shrugged "... whatever crowns your queenie."

Slipher looked irritated and raised his voice, "You have exactly twenty-four hours before I bring you Sabrina... whether her head is attached or not, depends on if you find the cauldron."

Nudd and Self just sat quietly, so I said, "We... learned about a riddle."

"What?" Slipher said, while he was busy inspecting our wands and belongings.

"A riddle to help find the cauldron. It goes something like- 'The red and white queens, dance forever undead, the cauldron is below, where no one dares tread'..."

"So, what does that mean?" Slipher had my magical coin purse in his dirty hands and opened it up, then dug his unclean fingers around inside. He pulled something out, but I was relieved to see it was only a handful of coins, buttons, and some old Werther's Original hard candies. He poured the items back in the coin purse, and put it away with our wands inside his trench coat he was wearing.

I sighed, "We don't know exactly... we were heading to London because we thought maybe it had to do with the War of the Roses."

"Well, I hope for your sake you're right..." Slipher smiled.

After a meager breakfast, Zwicky in his sad silver mask appeared out of the woods. They talked for a moment, and Zwicky took off his mask and looked just like his drawing in the wanted poster as well. They started to clean up camp, and Slipher said, "We're moving, so get up!"

"So... is there a plan?" Nudd asked.

Slipher nodded to the road, and said, "Aye, there's a plan. It's... Solvitur Ambulando!"

"What's that? A some secret Death-Eater spell?" I asked.

Slipher held up his wand and said, "Start walking, smart aleck!"

"Who's Alec?" Auror Self asked, and was nudged along by the tip of Zwicky's wand being jammed into his back.

Slipher said, "Oh you guys make a great comedy team-up, don't you?"

Auror Self, "Not as good as you two."

There is an awkward moment, then Slipher said, "Cruciatus!"

After we regain consciousness again, Auror Self got up and dusted himself off, and mumbled, "Don't use too much magic or the Questing Beast will smell it and come looking!"

Zwicky and Slipher looked at each other, then started laughing. Slipher said, "There's no such thing as the Questing Beast!"

"Excuse me?" I said, slightly offended, "But there's numerous stories of the Questing Beast roaming the Forest Sauvage.

"It ain't real!" Slipher said emphatically, as we all walked back towards the secret cabin.

"Excuse me, not real?!" I said, "This coming from a person who has spent their entire life looking for the supposed Cryptic Cauldron."

Slipher frowned and said, "That's because the Cauldron is a real documented fact, unlike the Questing Beast which is probably just... some boggart that morphed into a big scary giraffe.

I thought about my experiences in the Slough of Despond, and said, "That... could actually very well be."

Auror Self smiled, "But what about the cauldron, what if that turns out to just be a ghost giraffe too?"

Slipher smiled, "The Questing Beast is like Wirry-Cows and Bugbears. Just old fairy tales to scare children to get ready for bedtime, nothing like the cauldron."

Auror Self laughed, "Completely different than this mystical cauldron nobody has ever actually seen!"

Everybody paused for a moment and I yelled, "Could you please just shut-"

Slipher yelled, "Cruciatus!"

Once again, hours passed and we eventually regained consciousness. After the second time we stopped talking for a while. We walked up to the mustard-colored Talbot Avenger from before, and I said, "Here's the thing, chaps, if we can't figure out the riddle, it's not going to matter how many times you torture us."

The group stopped walking, and Nudd turned to me and said, "Wait... what did you just say?"

"I said if we can't figure out the riddle, it won't matter how many times we are tortured."

Slipher held up his wand menacingly, "Maybe? But it would still be fun for me!" and laughed.

After tying up our hands and putting us in the back seat, Zwicky aimed the wand at us, "If any of you try anything, you're dead you understand? We don't need all three of you to find the cauldron, got it?"

Auror Self shoved me and said, "Fine, kill him first."

"Don't listen to him!" I pleaded.

We then drove south on the Kingsroad, and out of the Forest Sauvage and back onto paved roads. As we got closer towards the main highway towards London, I kept thinking about the riddle and I said, "Something... keeps bugging me about the riddle."

Nudd said, "What do you mean?"

"It's just... that the War of the Roses doesn't really fit with the rest of the poem.

Everything else involved with the cauldron was about Arthurian legends, not the current muggle aristocracy at the time."

Auror Self actually looked at me for once, "Go on..."

Nudd asked, "So what red and white queens are... from what- King Arthur?"

I said, "That's the thing, I can't remember any red or white queens in King Arthur's time."

We started going through the general history of King Arthur as we drove across the countryside. We discussed the various stories involving Uther Pendragon, Vortigern, Merlin, and the famous sword in the stone, but couldn't recall anything about queens.

After a while, I said, "Excuse me, I need to use the loo."

Slipher pounded the steering wheel, "Ugh! Why didn't you say something before we left?"

We pulled off the highway and pulled up to a small gas station across from a football field. Zwicky walked up with me to go to the bathroom and the place is swarmed with soccer players. While waiting in the queue, I stared at the person in front of me wearing a sports jersey. I looked at the logo, and saw it was Oxford College's football team. It is then I noticed their team crest of red and white dragons wresting.

"That's it! Oxford! Where Merlin eventually buried the red and white dragons from the story of Dinas Emrys!" I said, and Zwicky eyes went wide.

"Yes, that sounds familiar. Is that the one about Vortigern's castle that kept crashing?" Zwicky asked, and I realized there was something oddly familiar about his voice.

I said, "Yes, that's the one! He ordered a young Merlin to figure it out, and the boy discovers the dragons. He puts a spell on them, and the legend has it that he buried them somewhere underneath Oxford College!"

After I freshened up, we both returned to the rest of the group and told them the story about teenage Merlin working for Vortigern, and the tale of the Red and White Dragons.

I said, "In the story they were two female dragons, or 'queens'."

Slipher looked downright giddy, "Alright! Showtime!"

We drove for hours and eventually just outside of Oxford Town my curiosity got the better of me once again, and I had to ask, "So were you two there that night at the Old Node Inn?"

Slipher and Zwicky exchanged a sidelong glance, and Slipher nodded, "You got us. We were meeting with someone who knew supposedly had a lead about the cauldron."

I said, "But you looked so different."

Slipher said, "We often change our appearance when out in public and we were supposed to meet a liaison from the Mermen- a Kelpie, who had taken some Gillyweed... but for whatever reason he never arrived that night. The weird thing is at first, we actually thought you were the contact."

"Me? Why's that?" I asked, as Auror Self stared at me out of the corner of his eyes.

Slipher looked out the car window, "We didn't know the man personally, just that we would recognize him by how old-fashioned he would be dressed and we saw you, but we figured it out."

We eventually drove into town and parked our car near the center. We walked towards Oxford College and stopped to eat at the Lion and Unicorn Café. After a bit of haggis, we all stepped outside, and there was a man on a bench feeding pigeons. I asked, "Excuse me old chap, which way to Exeter?" Which was the exact center of Oxford, at least according to legend.

"This... this is Oxford." He said. There was a brief pause.

"Yes, I know... could you direct me to the main building of Oxford college?"

"Yes..." I waited, then he said, "...this is Oxford."

"So... this is Oxford?" Auror Self mocked.

We waited for a moment as some pretentious swans drifted down the river.

"This is Oxford." The odd man said.

"I heard you! I know where we are!" I said. The man was so daft, that for a moment I thought he might have been Obliviated, and I said, "I'll have you know you are starting to really cheese me off!"

There was another brief pause, and he pointed, "This… is Oxford."

"Fine! Great! This is Oxford- let's go!" Auror Self said, and we just kept walking towards the main campus and we eventually saw signs for Exeter College. We walked inside of the courtyard, and Auror Self walked across the green square patch of grass that was in the center of the Letters building.

Some old rambling professor was walking with some students on the sidewalk and he yelled, "Get off the Green!"

Auror Self looked irritated, but Nudd stepped in front, "Sorry!"

Nudd shoved him back on the sidewalk, and Auror Self said, "What's the point of having a patch of grass if you are not allowed to walk on it?"

The Professor just huffed and puffed, "Such disrespect... I remember when students wouldn't dream of walking across the green!"

I watched the professor shuffle away, and I said, "Wouldn't dream of-"

"...walking across the green?" Nudd said.

"Or... rather, too afraid to walk atop the Green? For fear of what's below it?" Auror Self looked up.

Slipher smiled and said, "Nice work boyos."


	24. Ch 23- What Lurks Beneath Oxford Green?

Chapter 23-

What Lurks Beneath Oxford Green?

I pointed at the large green square of grass and said, "We should probably wait until midnight to walk out to the green. The entrance to the Crystal Castle only opened at midnight."

So we killed a couple of hours drinking at the small pub- The Badger and Hedgehog, across the street, then we crossed back over and snuck through the entrance with a group of students. When no one was around, Nudd, Auror Self, Slipher, Zwicky, and I all walked onto the finely manicured grass.

"Nothing's happening..." Slipher whispered.

I remembered the Cromlechs from the Forest Sauvage, so I looked up and found north by locating the big dipper and used my finger to travel towards the Northstar. I faced towards it and took a step to my left and walked widdershins all the way around the green where the rest of them were standing.

"What's he doing?" Slipher asked.

"Who know?" Auror Self lit up yet another cigarette.

"Wait... give him a second." Nudd said.

"If he tries to run, he dies." Slipher said, and even though I was too busy walking to look at him, I could still hear the smile in his voice.

"Good, he gets on my nerves." Auror Self said.

As I approach them from the right, Slipher said, "You see anything?"

I walked up to them and I could suddenly see a stone staircase drop down from the ground. As I walked down it, Slipher said, "He's sinking!"

"Where's he going?" Auror Self said.

Once I was underneath the ground I could see them above me like they were walking on glass instead of grass, and Slipher said, "He's disappeared!"

They were trying to step where I had stepped but it didn't work, I tried yelling at them, "I'm right here! You have to walk around the green anti-clockwise!"

But they couldn't hear me, and Auror Self said, "You should have killed him when you had the chance."

"Enough jokes." Slipher said.

"Who's joking?" Auror Self said and took a puff of his cigarette.

Nudd was the first figure it out, and said, "Come on, let's walk around the green like he did." They all reluctantly followed him and Nudd eventually walked around the green and back towards me. When he got nearer, he saw the staircase drop down as it had for me.

"I'm right here! Can you hear me?" I yelled.

"Gilderoy?" Nudd said, "Is that you?"

They stepped down into the staircase and saw me. I said, "I couldn't get back up and I was yelling and yelling but you couldn't hear me."

"Let's keep moving..." Slipher said, and we walked down the staircase. After a while of walking, we were all upside down like the stairs had flipped over. We fell down a hole for quite a while and I yelled, "This is like something out of Alice in Wonderland!"

After floating around with various objects passing us, we stopped right before we hit the ground when Slipher yelled, "Immobilous!"

We landed with a thud, but we were relatively alright. We stood up, dusted ourselves off, and looked around to see a stone entrance into a large hallway where the walls were covered in old tapestries. As we walked further, there were illustrated scenes of Ancient Rome with Herpo-the-Foul, Simon Magnus, and Hecate in both Runic and Latin writing. Then there was a different tapestry of Herpo and his Roman soldiers coming to England, defeating the Druids with the help of the giant Fomorians. Next was a scene of Queen Mab sacrificing herself to the Morrigan to protect Avalon. Finally a depiction of frost giants being driven out of England by King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table.

As we travelled underground, the steps kept getting rougher and rougher, and eventually the whole right side opened up to a deep dark drop. I picked up some small pebbles and threw them over the side into the darkness. We all waited for a moment, but there was no sound.

Nudd said, "That's not good."

"How far down do you think it goes?" I asked.

Auror Self smiled, "Maybe it's the Never-Ending Abyss..."

Slipher stated, "Maybe..." Then he jabbed his wand at us and said, "Now keep walking or I'll toss you over."

"Maybe I don't want to keep walking." Auror Self said and stopped.

"Oh, is it because you don't want Nudd to remember anything?" Slipher smiled back.

Auror Self said, "That's ridiculous."

Slipher continued, "You don't think Nudd's going to eventually remember how he neglected Ariel? How he was never home? How he didn't want a family or children?"

Auror Self said, "Don't listen to him Nudd... he's lying!"

Slipher smiled, "What about how Ariel gave him an ultimatum that if he didn't leave the Ministry, she would leave him. But that you convinced him not to bother, maybe because... you were secretly in love with Ariel?"

"That's a filthy lie!" Auror Self snarled.

"Is it?" Slipher said, "Or was she Obliviated in order to make her forget?"

Nudd looked confused, "Could... could this be true? Did this happen to us? I thought we were all best friends, you said so yourself..."

Auror Self said, "Don't listen to his lies!"

"Believe whoever you want..." Slipher smiled, and laughed a caustic chuckle, "But if you don't do what I tell you, I will never reveal the truth."

Nudd looked back down, and there was a moment of silence.

"It's... whom." I said.

"What?" He said, his eyes wide.

I replied, "It's _whomever_ you want. You know, like the classic BBC TV show Dr. Whom?"

"Dr. What?" He asked.

I said, "No, not Dr. What- Dr. Whom."

Nudd said, "Dr. Whom? I don't know, Doctor... Faustus?"

"No, I'm telling you, do you remember Dr. _Whom_ -" I said.

"For Godric's sake, will you two please shut up!" Slipher yelled, and started walking us again.

After creeping down a long dark tunnel with yawning chasms to the left and right, we stepped over, and around, the many crevasses to reach a large metal door complete with an etching of an ouroboros, with a large lock in the middle.

Slipher tried to open the door with a variety of spells but none of them worked. He slammed his fist on the door and said, "Great!"

Then I remembered my key from the Slough of Despond. I took out the dragon's head key from my coat, and turned the lock. The door opened with a loud creaky echo.

Slipher asked, "Where did you get that?"

I just replied, "It's a long story."

We slowly crept up behind some large rocks and we saw a large white dragon, at least thirty feet long, with her claws wrapped around a large black cauldron.

I whispered, "I honestly thought it would be a little harder to find-"

"Shut it..." Auror Self said, and as we looked at the dragon we saw that its eyes were closed and that it was gently breathing, and we realized it was sleeping. We all carefully walked closer, and I saw that above the cauldron, there was a single floating red dragon's claw.

We tried to grab the Cryptic Cauldron, but it didn't move, and nothing we did worked. The large white dragon just slept peacefully.

We kept yanking and yanking, but we still couldn't budge it. We tried spells, charms, and incantations, but nothing worked. I said, "What if we wake the dragon? Maybe distract it for a moment while it's hand relaxes?"

Slipher said, "What?"

Auror Self smiled, "That's stupid enough to work."

So, we hid in a corner behind some rocks, and yelled and screamed. Slipher and Zwicky continued to cast various spells, but again nothing worked.

I asked, "Could I have my coin purse?"

Slipher smiled, "Coin purse, right now? You planning on buying some mints?"

"No... it's a magical coin purse." I admitted.

"Oh, is it now?" Slipher smiled and took the twee coin purse out of his jacket.

"Please, there's nothing of any value really." I said.

"Fine..." He said and handed it to me. He raised his wand towards me, "You try anything... you're toast!"

I opened up my coin purse and dumped it upside down. All sorts of things fell out- coins, buttons, candy, medicines, toadstools, my bagpipe, a few small stones, ancient petrified cracked golf balls, dead houseplants, a pile of individual mismatched socks, separate packs of playing cards, missing bills, pet rocks, and finally even an old red bicycle came tumbling out.

"Is there a kitchen sink in there too?" Auror Self said, and the others laughed. I did not.

Once there was nothing left, I finished shaking out the coin purse. Finally, a single white feather, left over from Sir Kay, came drifting out and slowly floated back and forth down to the ground.

I took the feather, and held it out and walked towards the sleeping dragon, "Choochie-choochie coo!"

Auror Self said, "What in the world are you doing, man?! Don't you know the Hogwart's motto- _Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus?!"_

I replied, "Yes, of course I know it, _don't tickle sleeping dragons-_ but you got another idea Mister bright-guy?

The group just looked around and mumbled.

I said, "I didn't think so!"

I took the feather and tickled the giant white dragon and it slowly started to wiggle and chuckle, but didn't wake up. I then went around the dragon to find its tickle spot, which was on the underside of its tale. I wiggled the feather more and more, and the dragon finally started laughing louder and louder.

"That's it!" Slipher said, "Keep going!"

The dragon released its claws just slightly enough for a split second so we could grab the Cauldron.

But once the cauldron separated from the white dragon, the dragon awoke. At the same time that Slipher tried to grab the floating and spinning red claw, it magically fell into the cauldron. The cauldron immediately started bubbling and smoking, and a new baby Red Dragon emerged from the cauldron, and started to grow to full size.

Once it was full grown, the white and red dragons both began to fight, shooting flames from their mouths, and destroying everything. As they did, rocks and pebbles tumbled down the sides of the large cave.

Amid the chaos of the two fighting dragons, I, Nudd, Slipher, Zwicky, and Auror Self tried to escape with the cauldron, and I informed them, "I really wish all this Red or White partisanship would be a little more civil, why can't the two dragons come together to find common ground. Perhaps a third party could help?"

We ran and hid behind some large boulders as the dragons flew around and fought each other. Slipher went to drink from the cauldron, but Zwicky stopped him, and said oddly, "We... should wait."

We tried to escape with the cauldron and crawled through a small tunnel. We hid in a cave while the battle raged outside the small enclosure. Slipher held the cauldron close, and said, "We are going to resurrect the Morrigan, the most ancient and powerful witch ever!"

"Oh yeah? Why's that?" Auror Self said and lit up a cigarette.

Slipher whispered, "She was one of the first witches, and her ghost is one of the oldest spirits to roam the earth. Once we have the cauldron, we will be able to merge with the original Morrigan herself, so the three of us can create a new era of magic!"

Zwicky said, "After the fall of the Druids, it was what Queen Mab sacrificed herself to, but the Morrigan is a spirit of vengeance instead of rebirth, a ghost driven by revenge rather than grace, and Queen Mab was only but one woman, so she could not control the Morrigan, and it consumed her."

I asked, "What is the Morrigan exactly?"

Auror Self replied, "The best we can understand it is the Morrigan is similar to a Vitae Ab Aetrno-"

Zwicky continued speaking, "You're wrong! She's not an Elemental- the Morrigan was one of the first witches, and she was once a mortal woman!"

Auror Self said, "Specters appearing as an Animae doesn't mean it was once a mortal woman."

Zwicky yelled, "Wrong again! The Ministry is based on nothing but lies! We will finally prove it! And since everyone knows the Morrigan can only be controlled by Witches, or more specifically women, and that Wizards being men are too weak to control the power!"

I replied, "As a man, I say that's rather preposterous! Surely, a man can handle any form of power better than a woman, isn't that why all the books and novels are about magical boys?"

"No..." Slipher said, "It's not."

"Well, name me one famous _witch_ that's been written about? Besides the Worst Witch?"

Slipher yelled, "Enough is enough!"

After a moment, I tried to think of any plan to prevent or distract them from drinking the cauldron, but mostly I just hoped that Nudd and Auror Self would attack them, so I said "But I don't understand, you two aren't even women. How could you become a part of the Morrigan?"

Vesto started laughing, took out a flask and took a sip. He then turned into a woman who looked familiar, and at first I couldn't place it, then I realized she looked a lot like Ariel, but a few years older.

"Maggie? Is that you?" Nudd said confused.

"Yes, I'm Ariel's sister, if you haven't figured it out yet." She said to us.

"Wait... what? Ariel's sister?!" I replied, "I didn't know she had a sister."

"Maggie?" Nudd said, "But you and Ariel haven't talked in years..."

Auror Self yelled out, "Listen Maggie May, can we please clear up how Ariel and I never had a relationship!"

"Not yet..." Maggie said.

Zwicky then took out his flask, also takes a sip, and then turned into Sabrina.

"Sabrina?" Nudd and I both asked at the same time, and I got a feeling that we both probably really didn't want to be right.

"You know her?" Nudd asked.

"Why? Don't tell me she's also Ariel's sister?" I said.

She looks ashamed, "I'm sorry for all the lies and deception, we never wanted to hurt any of you."

I yelled, "What's happening? I don't understand!"

They had tricked Nudd and Auror Self. But not me, for you see, I only yelled _,_ "I don't understand," but in fact, I did understand, and I had figured it out a long time ago.

I just wanted to keep it a secret till the end to build up suspense, you see I had known from the beginning, of course, I just didn't want to spoil the surprise for you. I already knew Zwicky and Slipher were the Dapper-Man and the German Wizard with the bad breath, respectedly, from the Old Node Inn, on that first night I started investigating Nudd, and that the Red-Haired Fomorian Giant had also taken Poly-Juice potion, or been transfigured, to regular human-sized red-haired bearded man, when I had interrupted their meeting.

Maggie held up her small bottle, and laughed, "We would change ourselves when going undercover doing Death-Eater work, an idea we picked up from the Ministry by the way. Amazing stuff, this Poly-Juice Potion, there really should be a store that sells it."

Auror Self yelled, "Not everything can be solved by capitalism, you bloody Thatcherite!" and in a fit of rage, Auror Self attacks Ariel's sister Maggie, (A.K.A. Vesto Slipher) and she dropped her gold smiling Death-Eater mask, and Poly-Juice potion bottle on the ground.

They struggled and wrestled next to the yawing chasm that lead to the Never-Ending-Abyss, and Maggie yelled "Adva Kadavra!"

As Auror Self fell backwards into the Never-Ending Abyss, his last words were "Don't believe the Ministry!"


	25. Ch 24- Our Lady Morrigan

Chapter 24-

Our Lady Morrigan

After a silent moment, we realized we could no longer hear the dragons fighting anymore. As we began to peek around some rocks, I said, "Maybe they went back to sleep?"

At the last second, I took a step forward and tried reaching for the cauldron, but Sabrina caught me out of the corner of her eye, and tried to blast me, but just barely missed. I stepped back with my hands raised.

"I'm sorry, Gilderoy... I never meant for you to get hurt." She said, and I really wanted to believe her.

"Why me?" I asked.

"We needed someone to find the cauldron, but the Cryptic Cauldron cannot be found by cowardly, evil, or greedy men, that was the problem in the past. Every Death-Eater who sought it was too weak to pass the various tests. So, Ariel's idea was that we needed someone brave, someone noble, and pure. But we were never going to give the cauldron to the Dark-Lord, you must believe me!"

I said, "Now, I am to believe you? After everything you've done, now I'm supposed to believe you are telling the truth! After all your lies?"

Sabrina seethed, "The Death-Eaters believe the Dark-Lord will return someday, more powerful than ever! Ariel thought if that was true, then we are going to need a weapon to stop him!"

Nudd said, "No... Ariel would never do that!"

Maggie laughed, "That's what she said you'd say, and so you wouldn't figure it out, she had her own memories removed and kept in a Pensieve. Then she told Sabrina and I to erase her memories and blame it on John-the-Obliviator. Later, after finding the Cauldron, we would take the Pensieves to her, and give her memories back."

"No! I don't believe any of this!" Nudd said, "Will was right, everything you two say is a lie!"

I said, "It's not true, is it?" and Sabrina just sighed, as Maggie laughed some more.

We then heard distant voices from the other end of the tunnel, and Maggie said, "It's them, quick..."

As we watched the lights and shadows approaching closer, Maggie took out her Poly-Juice poition and took a sip, and then turned to Sabrina, "Hurry, drink your Poly-Juice..."

Since Poly-Juice takes a few moments to take effect, Maggie put on Slipher's smiling gold Death-Eater mask, and Sabrina took a sip of her own Poly-Juice Potion, and then put on her frowning silver mask as well. Then they wrapped shrouds around our heads like blind-folds on each of us, but I could see through a small opening in mine if I tilted my head just right.

A moment later, the other group of Death-Eaters emerged from the darkness.

One of the Death-Eaters wore a smooth silver mask that had no facial features, "Slipher!"

Maggie (in Slipher's voice) said, "John-The-Oblivator!

The man with no face said, "We thought you were dead!"

Maggie replied, "You would like that, wouldn't you?"

The blank silver mask said, "But then I heard you were in town. You're not trying to skip on out with the cauldron are you? The Dark Lord wouldn't be happy about that."

Maggie laughed and the gold smiling mask moved up and down, "No, of course not! Zwicky and I were just waiting till we retrieved the cauldron. Rather than return with more disappointing news, of course, you know how much the Dark Lord hates that."

The John-the-Obliviator, who seemed to be the leader of the other group of Death-Eaters said, "Yes... of course."

Maggie, still using her Slipher voice, now spoke louder to them and said, "But now you get to all bear witness and tell the soon-to-be-resurrected Dark Lord, that it was I- Vesto Slipher, who located the long lost Cryptic Cauldron!"

The blank mask of John-The-Obliviator nodded, "Of course... Death-Eaters always stick together don't we?"

The rest of the Death-Eater grunted, and he continued, "See, you can trust us. Now hand the Cauldron over... or were you actually thinking of drinking from it yourself first?"

"No, of course not. Well, maybe... just to test it, make sure it's safe for the Dark Lord, or whatever's left of him, of course."

John-the-Obliviator said, "Of course. So, who are these two?"

Maggie said, "They murdered the giant Volstagg, the last Fomorian."

"Yeah, who are they?"

Maggie replied, "An Auror, and some stupid reporter in over his head."

I felt myself getting nauseous as I thought about my plan, but there was no further time to waste and so I stepped forward and said, "Don't trust him, he's lying! He's really Gilderoy Lockhart!"

The Death-Eater leader paused for a moment, "Oh... who's that?"

I was in front of Maggie, so I quickly turned around and yanked off her smiling gold mask, revealing the face of, not Slipher, but my face- Gilderoy Lockhart.

It was like looking into the Mirror of Erised itself.

"Wow, he really is rather good looking!" I said, as I inspected my own face, er... face to face, as it were.

"What's going on here?" Maggie said as she turned her mask around to look at her own reflection in John-The-Obliviator's mirror mask, and said, "No! You contaminated the Poly-Juice!"

The group of Death-Eaters raised their wands, and Maggie, who looked just like me, said, "No! I'm not Lockhart, he tricked me, you idiots! Just like he's tricking you."

"Is that so?" John-the-Obliviator said, "If you are really Slipher, prove it!"

Maggie (with my face) turned to me and said, "Remove the blindfold."

"Do I have to?" I asked.

John-the-Oblivator raised his wand at me and said, "Remove it!"

I said, "If you insist... but I'm not Lockhart."

I removed the wrapped cloth around my head and showed them my face.

"What?!" Maggie with my face yelled, "How could it be?"

When I looked at my own reflection, I could see that I looked just like Slipher, for when we were running from the dragons, I used my slight-of-hand skills from my old days of being a magician to pickpocket the Poly-Juice, take a sip, and then place one of my own hairs in, and then put it back. And in case you are wondering how I did all of that so quickly, let me just assure you that, yeah, I'm just that good.

John-the-Oblivator said, "Slipher is that you?"

I said, "It is!" and then pointed to Maggie and said, "And this is the real Gilderoy Lockhart!"

An attractive sounding female Death-Eater said, "Oh yeah, I recognize him from his column from the Daily Prophet!"

I watched my face on another person become aghast with fear as she looked towards the Death-Eaters. "No, you idiots, he's trying to trick you!"

John-The-Oblivator said, "Idiots are we? As far as I can tell, you are all trying to double-cross the Dark Lord."

"Never!" Maggie said, "Zwicky, take off your mask."

When "Zwicky" took off the mask she was still Sabrina, and Maggie said, "No! He must have used some sort of counter-spell!"

John-the-Obliviator said, "Oh, really? Ok, then fine, why don't you just toss over the cauldron now, if you are who you say you are?"

Maggie (with my face) replied, "You know what, you're right- nevermind, it actually doesn't matter anymore!" then Maggie blasted John-The-Obilvator with a spell, and everybody ran for cover.

There was a fight between our all of us on one of the Abyss, and the John-the-Obliviator's Death-Eaters on the other side. Spells and curses flew back and forth in a dizzying array, and eventually, one shot headed straight for me, but I ducked, and it wound up hitting Maggie who was trying to run away behind me. She dropped the cauldron, and fell to the ground dead.

It's weird looking at your own dead face, to say the least.

After a moment, my recently deceased face morphed back to Maggie's own as she laid motionless, and Sabrina let loose a loud howl. Nudd then ran over and grabbed our wands out of Maggie's jacket, and tossed me mine. He shot at the Death-Eaters on the other side of the chasm and Sabrina ran over to grab the cauldron, and I tried to grab it at the same time. An instant later, John-the-Obliviator shot a curse at us.

In that moment, time seemed to slow down, and I was in the dead center of the curse, so I let go of the cauldron and tried to move out of the way.

Then out of the blue, Nudd jumped in the way John-the-Obliviator's curse.

"No!" I yelled, but it was too late, for he had bravely sacrificed himself for me.

Sabrina took ahold of the cauldron, and screamed, "Finally!" She drank from the cauldron, and laughed manically, "I can feel it!"

She screamed, "Voldemort will never get this cauldron!" and started firing large blasts toward John-the-Obliviator and his group of Death-Eaters. They fled and ran in the opposite direction back from which they came, and John-the-Obliviator said, "You'll regret this!"

I pleaded to Sabrina, "You don't have to do this! The Dark Lord is dead and gone! The war is over!"

She looked at me with crazed eyes, "You don't know, do you?"

"Know what?" I asked.

She yelled, "There is a prophecy they will return!"

I asked, "A prophecy? About You-Know-Who?"

"That's half of it..." She smiled, and her pupils turned to little vertical slits.

"Who?!" I yelled.

"All in good time, Gilderoy, all in good time..." She laughed a high-pitched and crazed laugh that I had never heard before, yet was strangely familiar, like hearing a recording of yourself played back. Sabrina eyes went white. She took her wand and whispered some strange dark curse and yelled "Revealio!" at me and I turned from looking like Slipher back to myself.

"You shouldn't have tried to stop us! Now Maggie's dead because of you!" She then flung a wisp of smoke that turned into a curved blade at me, and it chopped my foot completely off.

"Ahhh, my foot!" I screamed, and the pain was unbelievable.

"Together we could have defeated the Dark Lord!" She took another wisp of smoke, and turned it into a knife and flung it again, and this time it went through my wrist, cutting off my hand. I'm was in shock, staring at my left hand lying motionless on the ground.

She reached down and plucked out my left eye, "...but you were too blind to see it!"

I yelled, "Ahhh my eye, my eye!"

She held it in the air and dropped it into her mouth. She swallowed it and said "Delish! Now, it's time for your tongue to pay the price for your lies and deception!"

"Nooo!" I yelled out, "Not my tongue, anything but my tongue! I need it to, hmpf-", and she grabbed my tongue in her hands and snarled, "Quit... shruggling!"

I kept wriggling my tongue out of her slimy hand when, at the very last moment, she finally got a good grip. But then I heard pounding that sounded almost like drums and a high-pitched wale that sounded like bagpipes. The pounding and waling got louder and louder as the ground began to shake, and Sabrina stopped and listened, and she said, "What... is that?"

It continued to get louder and louder as more pebbles and rocks tumbled down the cave wall, and the red and white queen dragons came smashing through the cave wall. Sabrina dropped her wand and the cauldron, and I immediately grabbed the wand with my one good hand and said, "Aquarious!" and shot a blast of water into the Cauldron. I then took a drink as fast as I could. Immediately my foot, hand, and eye grew back, and I no longer felt any pain.

I couldn't believe it, and I yelled, "The stories were true, after all!"

After I had finished regenerating, I stood up and inspected my new hand and foot with my new eye, and they all seemed better than new. I dragged the cauldron over to Nudd, and woke him up. His eyes were blank and glassy, "Here, drink this! It should restore you!"

As I scooped up some Aqua Vitae in my hands to give to Nudd, I was attacked from behind by Sabrina. She flung me across the room and I fell off the side of the crevasse but was able to hang on by the tips of my fingers. I climbed back up to see Sabrina trying to fly away with the cauldron, but it was too heavy and it was making it difficult for her to fly.

Her hair was now turning white and she began to grow large white wings out of her back. She started to beat the wings louder and louder, over and over, in order to take flight, and she screamed, "Nothing can stop me now!"

As she tried flying away up through the cave, the red dragon came swooping down and engulfed her in a fireball, and she fell down into the Never-Ending Abyss, like a ball of fire, right into the very cauldron she had been holding onto.

And as far as I know- neither Sabrina nor the Cryptic Cauldron was ever seen again...


	26. Ch 25- The Janus Thickey Ward

Chapter 25-

The Janus Thickey Ward

After the red dragon flew away, I crawled to safety and the rockslide eventually subsided and I rested there for a moment and caught my breath. Unfortunately, Nudd wasn't doing as well. I examined him and he had no memory of anything, not even who he was. All of his memories were gone.

He smiled and said, "Hello, it's a pleasure to meet you!"

He was completely Obliviated, I said, "Come on, old chap. It's time to take you home."

Nudd paused for a moment then smiled, "Hello... pleased to meet you?"

So, after all that, I found myself taking an Oblivated Nudd to England's finest hospital for magical maladies- St. Mungo's, so he could once again be together with his Oblivated wife Ariel, just like the proverbial Tom O'Bedlam and his Mad Maudlin, finally reunited at long last.

In the lobby, as the Hogwarts' Frog Choir was singing an acapella version of Eleanor Rigby, I checked Nudd in and we sat in the waiting room. Different people with their families and friends checked in and out as well, and I thought about the good times Nudd and I had together on our journey, and I was sad to see him go.

After a short while, I was greeted by a kind-hearted nurse. She and another orderly helped me put Nudd into a wheelchair, and I rolled him out to where Ariel was sitting in a large visiting room. As we strolled closer, a glimmer of recognition washed over her face.

She smiled for just a split second, but then it was gone.

She could have been staring at a stranger, or even her own child, and it wouldn't have even mattered. And it was the same with Nudd- a slight glance at Ariel, and then nothing. They both just stared into the distance, like they were looking, or waiting, for something that was still very far away. With the help of the nurse, as the sun began to rise, I moved each of them near an open window, so they could enjoy each other's company, even if they weren't fully aware of it.

I thought about my parents in their future doting age, and hoped they would still be there for each other. I wondered if it was maybe for the best with Nudd and Ariel? Maybe their relationship was severely, and maybe irreparably, damaged, but now perhaps the Ludlows will get to fall in love all over again without their old memories and all their old regrets.

The kindly nurse patted me on my shoulder and informed me she is taking them to the doctor to be examined and that I should say my goodbyes now. I went up and hugged Nudd with tears in my eyes, and I said, "I'm going to miss you, old chap!"

But Nudd only nodded and smiled that same smile he always did, "Hello, pleased to meet you!" and he stuck out his hand.

I held back the tears because I felt like I had to be strong for him. I took his hand and shook it and said, "Shine on, you crazy diamond, you."

I said goodbye to Ariel even though I didn't know her. But I couldn't help thinking about what Sabrina said about her and her sister's all sacrificing themselves to the Morrigan in order to stop the Dark Lord.

As I went to hug her, I tried to inspect Ariel without being too obvious. She looked tired and sad, but not a vessel for an ancient evil witch. I thought about the stories of Herpo-the-Foul becoming trapped in the Cauldron itself, and I wondered, "If a person can be turned into a Horacrux? Can a Horacrux be turned into a person?"

I wondered about what had really happened to Ariel. Why she was tortured and Oblivated? I don't think she would have chosen this for herself. Who would someone do such a thing? But could Ariel have somehow actually been turned into a Horacrux, without her even knowing it? Somebody must have opened a window, because suddenly there was a chilly draft, and I wrapped my jacket around myself a little tighter.

"Ridiculous..." I said to myself, and thought, "Yes, by that logic even I could be a Horacrux, and that seems rather absurd!

I began to get up and walk out and as I did so there was strangely enough a black cat in my path, just like when I first met Sabrina. As I stepped around it, I looked around the Janus Thickey Ward and at its various denizens, and all the other unfortunate souls traumatized by the Great Wizarding War and realized- "That way lies madness. You might as well believe in tarots, horoscopes, and superstitions. I mean, if that's true, then any of us could be a Horacrux."

I looked back at the visiting room, and I saw all the unfortunate souls mulling about, the various empty and lost faces, including the sad tragic couple of Frank and Alice Longbottom.

A woman who must have been Alice's mother walked in with a stroller, and in it there was a small baby boy. The nurse brought the baby to the Longbottoms, and they gazed upon him as if it were a fragile delicate doll. Frank and Alice looked at the baby and smiled and for a moment it looked like they recognized him. But after holding him for a few more moments they handed him back to the Grandmother like he was just some stranger's doll.

I then wondered, "Why didn't Bellatrix just kill the Ludlows- Sorry, I meant Longbottoms? Why just torture them and then leave them in a state worse than death? What... if Bellatrix really did make both of them her Horacrux?"

The Janus Thickey Ward seemed to spin around me. I had to take a deep breath, and sit down for a moment. The kindly nurse walked up and said, "Excuse me, sir? Are you all right?"

I took another moment for myself, then stood up and said, "Rubbish! Hot bloody rubbish, I tell you! Yes, with that train of thought, we all might as well all jump down the old rabbit-hole together!"

As I headed out the door of St. Mungo's to finally get a decent night's rest, the nurse just replied "Sir?"

Outside, I took a deep breath of cool crisp night air, and the Knight Bus pulled up with the radio playing London Calling.

The Knight Bus driver asked, "Where to?"

I sighed a sigh of relief, and replied, "Home!"

The driver said, "But I don't know where you-"

Well, in any case, our time together has unfortunately come to an end, but please dry your eyes dear reader, and despair not as we separate and go our own ways. For all is not lost, because like a delicious meal of blood sausage, the aftertaste is half the fun!

And you should take comfort in our time well spent together, and know that no matter the laws of time and space, just like magic, I shall always be with you on your journeys, no matter how alone you might feel.

For as we bid adieu, my advice to you is whenever you feel lost, doubt, or dread, just forget about yourself for a moment will you, and wonder- "What would Gilderoy Lockhart do?"

I think the world would be a much better place... don't you?


	27. Afterword

Afterword-

Traveling Widdershins… and Back Again

Once I was done recuperating, I wrote up my news report for The Daily Prophet and it was a smashing success, of course. My column was on the front page, and I quickly received several prestigious awards and numerous acclaims. I was then able to finish up my contract for the Gilderoy's Guide advice column on good terms, which enabled me to expand my humble article into a full-length best-selling book- Magical Me.

The rest as they say, is _history_!

Afterwards, I spent months (and most of my book advance) looking for any trace of the Ludlow's supposedly missing Pensieves, but ultimately, and unfortunately, nothing turned up. I also tried retracing my steps to the strange forgotten town of Twiggy Eggnog but alas- no such luck.

Oddly enough, when I tried following up with the Department of Archives in the Ministry of Magic, I was met with a series of curt rejoinders stating that Nudd's case had been closed, and all remaining files were being moved to permanent storage no longer available for public use. I was also told that officially they do not comment on any previous cases or Aurors, and due to privacy and confidentiality laws that I should change all the proper names of those involved, in order to protect the innocent from those that would prey and exploit their misfortune.

Yes, I'll admit there are still days when I'll have a new hunch for a possible lead or clue about what really happened to Nudd and Ariel, but ultimately it would probably just be one more piece of the story, just like the various conflicting legends involving the Cryptic Cauldron, and not really the "whole truth".

So, I move on, and instead of trying to rehash the past (as tempting as it often is) I keep focus on writing a new story, the likes of which has never been told before! For I believe are best days are not behind us, but ahead, and who knows what the future holds?

Well, I must bid you adieu because right now I'm writing this while on a walkabout in the Australian outback hunting down some particularly nasty werewolves and it's starting to get dark. So, until next time, take care, and as always remember-

" _NILLEGITIMI... CARBORUNDUM!"_

Yours truly,

Gilderoy

Lockhart


End file.
